


Ache

by Mamoro



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 28,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamoro/pseuds/Mamoro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A repository for my unbeta'd oneshots and drabbles.  All canon, all Ken/Kao. (titled after the first oneshot I wrote)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Worthy

Our little obsession is an action Manga, but Watsuki-san indulged in the most angst riddled, character torturing declaration of love that I have ever seen with the Jinchuu arc.

First, Kenshin tells her that he wants to stay with her forever. Then, she watches as a threat to her life causes him to rise against all odds and injuries, golden eyed and full of wild fury. Then, she comes back from the island and finds out that her “death” had him hollow-eyed and waiting to die.

So, yeah, he loves her.

So what is it like for her to be the recipient of that kind of love, from that kind of man?

* * *

 

Her hair looked...respectable, pinned and coiled like a proper woman. She smooth the lines of her kimono, checked her obi, and nodded. Today she must negotiate with the workman to begin the dojo's skilled carpentry repairs, and she must look authoritative. Her taxes were due next month, her men were all injured, her income was paltry and the dojo was it was would not shelter them through the coming winter. She must secure the foreman's agreement to do the job at her price; there was no alternative.

She looked into her own eyes in her mother's mirror. “I am Kamiya Kaoru, I am the successor of Kamiya Kasshn Ryu, and Kenshin loves me. I will not fail.”

She firmed her jaw, straightened her shoulders, and left for battle, such as it was.

.

.

.

She kept one sharp eye on the workmen, ensuring they did the job they'd agreed to do, and her other eye on her task. She did not balk at the blood in the washtub, on her hands and arms, scrubbing the stained linen bandages clean. A boiling water rinse after, to sanitize them for re-use. She must ensure the construction dust didn't touch them, didn't contaminate them, didn't bring infection to her recuperating family.

She plunged her hands in the pink water, into the blood of her injured men, and did not balk.

_Kenshin loves me._

_._

_._

_._

She portioned the meal onto three separate trays, ensuring that she had remembered to include all the warm, strengthening foods that Megumi had prescribed. A carefully measured portion of powdered medicine into each of three teacups, and they were complete. She did not shy away from acknowledging the cost of these foods, did not scrimp on those things that her men needed. She did not acknowledge her own dinner of leftover soup and her paltry portion of rice. There would be time for that later, alone in her room.

There was steel in her eyes, she knew, so she closed them briefly. Alone in the quiet kitchen, she put on a sparkling smile and lifted the first tray. Her men would only see her smiling, she vowed.

_Kenshin loves me._

_._

_._

_._

She learned from Megumi how to change the bandages. She helped her men to the outhouse with strong arms and a straight back. She barely blushed as she bathed them. She changed sheets and wiped brows and smiled all the while. She kept them all in separate rooms so that none of them realized how much time she spent caring for them and how little time she spent sleeping. Just a little bit of beauty cream banished the dark circles and they need never know.

As Sekihara-san sat drinking her tea and demanded compensation for the ruined Akabeko, as townspeople recoiled from her in superstitious fear, as she pretended not to here the gossip that followed her like a wave, she lifted her chin and chanted silently:

_Kenshin loves me._

_I am a woman worthy of devotion._

 


	2. Ache

Manga!Kenshin actually really enjoys needling Kaoru about her cooking. I was surprised when I re-read the manga and noted this, but he really does. To family and to strangers, he comments pretty often about how bad her food tastes. And he has this huge smile on this face every time he does it. For a guy as kind hearted as Kenshin, that's pretty strange and gave birth to this little plot bunny.

* * *

Kaoru was sewing tonight. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. She always did it at night, after dinner, dressed in her sleeping yukata and jacket, sitting in the main room, stitching away by lamp light. Tonight, Yahiko was already in bed, the work was all done, and the night sky was cloudy and not terribly interesting to watch. She had been mending a kimono of his, but she now seemed to be adding a bit of embroidery to the sleeve.

He'd been surprised at first that a woman like Kaoru-dono enjoyed such a feminine task, but it seemed that she really did. She always smiled as she sewed and sometimes she hummed little songs under her breath. Really, some day he should ask her what about it made her smile so, but not tonight. Tonight he would pretend to drink tea and watch her as she worked.

It was easy to forget that she was conventionally pretty, sometimes, but it was never more apparent than when she indulged in this lady-like work. Her eyes were downcast, dark lashes smudging high cheekbones. The curve of her cheek was velvety smooth. Her chin was cutely pointed, her lips were a pretty blush pink. Her neck was long and slender, and really didn't bear contemplation for the sake of Kenshin's sanity. Her hair was softly braided and down over her left shoulder.

It was like a secret between them, this quiet beauty. Kenshin knew that he shouldn't allow this, shouldn't savor it so, but he was unable to deny himself. He knew that no other man had ever watched her thus, had never seen this private gentleness.

Kenshin was only staying here for little while, just a little rest, and this was the height of stupidity. _Baka deshi, indeed._ But he couldn't seem to stay away, and this would make his leaving all the more difficult. He watched her sew, and pretended to drink his tea, and tried to understand why his chest ached.

.

.

.

Kaoru was yelling at Yahiko. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. Her eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed, her lips turning a darker pink. Her gestures were large and wild, and her expression fierce.

He'd been surprised at first that a pretty young woman, obviously descended from samurai, so eschewed the feminine virtue of modesty. Kaoru-dono had no care for whether she drew attention, and more often than not, she demanded it.

There was precious little pretense to her, and what there was, was poorly and half-heartedly done. When Kaoru-dono was angry, the whole world knew it. Her emotive eyes and expressive face screamed her intentions, and her strident voice cleared up any further misconceptions.

Absurdly, her anger made his shoulders relax. With this one small woman, there was no need for vigilance. No effort was required to assess her motives, no tense awareness of hidden sorrows needed. He enjoyed provoking her, turning all that glorious rage in his direction. He would make an unprovoked remark about her cooking, then stand and admire her while she exploded.

It was like watching a summer storm, all thunder and lightening, fierce and natural. It made his breath catch, it made his stomach tight. It made him think of things that should only be recalled during night time hours. It was stupid of him to have allowed this, to have become so tangled here and so tangled in her and the thought of leaving this place now made his chest ache.

.

.

.

 

Kaoru was singing. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. She always sang as she nursed, and she always petted Kenji's tuft of red hair. Her expression was besotted, her eyes loving, and her face soft. She was full of woman's mystery, her body curled around the baby.

Her hair was down, straight and shining, and she was still in her sleeping robe although the sunlight in the room was bright. She had bled so much, a terrifying amount of blood, and Megumi had prescribed bedrest for a month after the baby's birth. Two weeks later now, her cheeks were still white, her lips the palest pink.

She was stronger today, sitting up while she gave Kenji his lunch, and Kenshin was glad. The medicine Megumi had left seemed to be working well. Kenshin knew that this would be their only baby; he couldn't bear to risk her to the dangers of childbed again.

For now, all was right in his world, and he watched his son's tiny mouth work at Kaoru's breast. She always welcomed him here, seemed to know somehow what watching his miracle did to him. _I will never leave this place._ And his heart was so full that it made his chest ache.

 


	3. Gratitude

A tiny moment of post-Jinchuu contentment.

 

* * *

Dust motes floated in the sunshine, and laying in his futon Kenshin watched them dance with a deep contentment. The sounds of saws and hammers were keeping him awake despite Megumi's nasty tea and he didn't mind a bit.

_She's home._

Kaoru was home, and he could hear her fussing around the yard, passing water to the workers and coordinating the repairs from Enishi's destruction. He smiled when she began threatening Yahiko back to his bed, promising violence if he tried to help the men and hurt himself, blissfully unconcerned with how ludicrious it was to threaten someone with harm to keep them from a different harm.

She was home, and the dojo was being repaired and Kenshin's body ached fiercely in a dozen places and he was so happy that his chest felt too small to contain it all. He watched his family working and arguing through the open shoji, watched as they smiled in the sunshine, and his body was relaxed. Sometimes that soul deep imperative to protect kept his shoulders tense, his awareness high, and made true rest difficult. Now, though, watching them safe and happy and alive he felt...satisfied. His own personal dragon was appeased and he felt almost boneless, resting there.

She was home, and his family was all home now too, revolving around their center. The Kamiya dojo was a _home_ again, it's walls offering friendly shelter, its rooms and halls all spaces for her joy, its air meant to carry her scent, its furnishings meant to bring her pleasure. And Kenshin was so thankful that he, always a man of few words, had no way to express how grateful he was.

_Thank you, Tomoe, for keeping her safe._


	4. Peculiar

Post-canon, and written because I'm avoiding smoothing out a rough scene in my new chaptered story.

Anime characters have purple hair and pink eyes and et cetera but no one comments. In _Rurouni Kenshin_ , though, everyone comments on Kenshin's coloring, and there is a very notable lack of others with crazy haircolor. Yes, there are other characters with odd eye color, but I'm gonna gloss right over that in my own personal head-canon. With the Japanese emphasis on conformity for harmony, and an entire race of people with one hair color (with natural variations, true, but basically brown and black), can you imagine the attention a _red-head_ would draw?

* * *

She was staring. Kenshin tried not to sigh. The vendor's wife was staring and it was making both the vendor and Kaoru angry. Keshin rapidly bought the salt they needed and moved away, taking his wife with him.

Usually Kaoru's moods shifted like the clouds, but even now on the walk home, she remained disturbed. Kenshin watched her from the corner of his eye but held his silence. She would speak if she wanted to speak.

She did not speak. She walked quietly, a step behind him and to the left, although they normally walked next to each other. Her eyes were downcast, although normally she met the world boldly. Her mouth was frowning, although normally it as smiling.

At home, Kenshin put away the groceries and made a pot of tea. "Come, Kaoru-dono, we should sit on the porch, that we should," and he shooed her outside.

She sat, and looked at the sky, and her teacup, and her sleeves and generally anywhere but at him. Kenshin waited more or less patiently through the first cup tea. He allowed himself that sigh.

"Kaoru-dono, will not tell this one what has you so troubled?"

She gave him a tiny smile, and it was not a happy one. "Did you see her, that woman? Did you see how pretty she was?" And Kenshin was still clueless.

"... she was...fine, that she was. This one does not see what-"

"She was beautiful! And so was that lady in the park last week. And the woman that sells ribbons," she was leaning towards him now. "And the one at the Akabeko-"

"Kaoru-dono, this one-" Kaoru slammed her cup down onto the wooden planks.

"And the woman with the little girl buying sweet buns, and that _man_ at the tax office!" She was shouting, her face fierce.

"Kaoru!" His voice was sharp with confusion and a little bit of panic. She pressed her lips together, inhaled sharply, and snapped herself up straight, glaring out over the yard.

Kenshin took a breath, gentled his voice. "Kaoru-dono, this one truly does not understand, that I do not. What are you talking about?"

Her voice was small. "...They all stare at you."

He blinked. "Oh, well, this one is a little strange, that I am."

"Kenshin!" Her indignation dripped off the syllables of his name. "They weren't staring because you're _strange_ , they were staring because you're beautiful."

"Kaoru-dono," he _must not laugh_. "Kaoru-dono, they _were_ staring because this one is strange, that they were. This one has always been a bit… peculiar, all of this one's life." His hair, his eyes, his stature...In an field of black hair and dark eyes, he was an odd bright bloom that people had always noticed, even as a child. The slavers had wanted him for his exotic looks. In Kyoto they had called him _dragon_ , and _demon._ As a young man, he had attracted women like bees to honey. And as a husband, he apparently had an irritated wife.

An irritated wife who was glowering impressively. "You are _my_ husband! _Mine_! You're not supposed to be attracting... people!" She waved in the air, encompassing the insult to her possession.

He smiled and pulled her close. "Kaoru-dono, this one is indeed yours." Her cheek was smooth under his hand. "This one desires no other," and her lips were soft under his. She yielded for moment, then pushed him away, tossing her head.

"Kaoru-dono," he cupped the back of her head, his thumb stroking her neck. "Kaoru-dono, none of those people would have welcomed this one home. None of them would forgive this one's past. None of those people are as wonderful as you, that they are not."

He looked into her sweet, troubled eyes. "This one has always attracted attention because of my unusual coloring, Kaoru-dono. Sometimes to this one's advantage and often not. Never has any of those people ever cared whether this ones like sweet potatoes." Kaoru huffed a tiny laugh, and Kenshin smiled. "Nor do they wonder how this one likes tea, or if this one has cold feet." Kaoru pushed him away again, smiling honestly now, but he recaptured her, pulling her into his arms, and resting with her against his favorite porch pillar.

"It does not matter who stares, or what they think, Kaoru-dono; this one shall remain only yours, forever."


	5. Scent

Please let me know if this one is weird, I'm all high on pain medicine after my visit to the doctor today. Also, I was experimenting with verb tense in this one, trying an exercise to rid myself of some bad habits. However, I like the feeling of my bad habits, I think, so I went back to touch it up and make it sound more like me.

Onward!

Scent is one of the most powerful of the senses. We react to smells on a visceral, animal level that our conscious minds might not acknowledge but it's a powerful thing. In Ruruouni Kenshin, Tomoe's perfume is a recurring theme of Jinchuu. This is just an exploration of the comfort scent can bring us.

* * *

The first night Kenshin slept at the dojo , he awoke with a smile to the smell of aged wood, of cleanliness and polishing wax and the spring flowers from the yard. His blankets were thick and soft and had been packed into storage with sweet herbs. His body and hair were clean and comfortable, smelling of soap and sweet water.

_This is a good place, that it is._

He took a slow, deep breath through his nose, took in a lung full of the Kamiya Dojo, and filed the details into his memory for ready retrieval on the the cold nights of future wandering.

.

.

.

Laying in bed the first night back from Kyoto, Kenshin stared at the ceiling and breathed in, slow and deep. Kaoru had gone wild when they returned, organizing a cleaning party of epic proportions, airing the rooms and scrubbing with vigor. The house now smelled damp, the sharp tang of vinegar in the air. Under that, though, were the familiar smells of age and polish, and the scent of the overgrown yard, a crowding of green things that needed tended.

The elegant compound had been neglected while they were gone, and Kenshin felt a strange kinship with the stately old place. He lay still, forearm across his forehead, and breathed it all in again.

_I will not leave again, that I won't._

.

.

.

When he collapsed in Kaoru's arms on Enishi's bloody beach, Kenshin's initial reaction was revulsion. Kaoru should not smell of white plum blossom, and the intrusive _wrongness_ of the scent made him nauseous. Later, she had apologized, and explained that the perfume was in the only soap she had been allowed for bathing, that the kimono Enishi had given her had reeked of it.

Days later, Kenshin lay in his bed, wrapped in bandages, and he ached in more than body. He felt disconnected, out of step with his own life. He rolled his head to the side, watching Kaoru as she chattered and she cleaned away his meal. She looked up, caught his eyes, and her face softened as she shifted closer to his side.

"Kenshin, it's alright," she stroked a hand over his hair, bold and tender. "We're all home now." He caught her fingers and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, turning his nose into her wrist: jasmine and salt, polishing wax and vinegar, green things and autumn air. He held her to himself, and breathed deep as the missing pieces of his heart clicked back into place.

_I am home again at last, that I am..._ and he felt no shame as he cried in relief.


	6. Amae

Amae

"Amae" is a Japanese concept that is derived from our innately childish desire to have our loved ones take care of us. Definition: to depend and presume upon another's benevolence"or "a to wish to be loved."

Setting is ambiguous, but I imagine it's right before Kyoto. Be sure to brush your teeth after reading...I think I have a cavity now.

Note: a black "lucky cat" is supposed to bring luck and ward off evil and stalkers. Seems appropriate.

* * *

Kenshin sat on the porch, snapping beans and enjoying the sunshine. Everyone was out for the day and no one was there to see as he devoured yet another cake. _Mmm..._

Sweets always reminded him of his first home, far away and long ago, and his memory supplied him with a fuzzy image of a smiling woman with red hair. Shishou didn't care for sweets, it wasn't manly enough, and he hadn't had any such indulgences during his training. And of course, being a ruruoni did not lend itself to the money needed to buy such an extravagance.

Kaoru-dono, though, had apparently picked up rather quickly how much he loved anything sweet, and she made sure that there was always something sugary stashed away in the kitchen. He was certain that she had learned to bake just to keep him supplied with the treats. After all, sweets were the only thing she made well. He smiled at the funny little cake in his hand, lopsided and odd. They always tasted delicious, though, and he stuffed it in his mouth like a child, his smile so wide that his eyes crinkled.

He knew that she thought she was being subtle with all the little things she did. There were always tea cakes, and sweet potatoes, and she brewed her tea mild and smooth. His red kimono had disappeared for a few days, once, and returned with the seams reinforced, and a funny little black cat embroidered on the inside of the left collar.

He felt...spoiled, treasured. Kaoru-dono worried if he didn't take a umbrella. She fussed over whether he had enough blankets. She was saving money for a new hakama, she told him, because his own seemed worn.

He smiled down at the beans, and ate another cake.


	7. Kagome, Kagome

Ugh, this tramadol crap is just killing my muse... or maybe she's just laying around, high as kite and not doing her job. :)

Kagome, Kagome is a traditional Japanese children's game, sort of Ring Around the Rosie combined with Marco Polo.

* * *

Kenshin smiled and watched his son play in the yard. Kenji had presented his new red ball for the admiration of the neighbors' little ones and it now looked as though they'd moved on to _Kagome, Kagome_.

Kenji was standing in the middle, small hands pressed over his eyes while the other children circled and sang. The song stopped, and the little boy's sweet high voice guessed correctly.

"Aiko-chan!" The little girl groaned and Kenji giggled. She took his place in the middle and the game resumed. Kenji was the oni frequently, likely because he giggled madly each time he ended behind the child that was "it." Kenshin finished the wash and moved on to sweeping the yard.

"Daisuke-kun!" Kenji crowed, and the little boy behind him laughed, moving to the center and covering his eyes. Kenshin was watching more than sweeping now, and the game progressed. The other children guessed and missed more often the not. Kenshin's three year son, however, was always right.

Always.

"Ne, everyone," Kenshin called. "This one has something for your game," and he produced a dry ribbon from the folded laundry. Jiro darted forward to retrieve the prize and tied it (as he was six, and knew how to tie a bow) around Kenji's eyes. The children spun and sang. Kenji giggled in the middle, waiting for his cue.

"Kagome kagome /the bird in the basket /when, oh when will it come out/In the night of dawn/the crane and turtle slipped/who is behind you now?"

"Eiji-kun!" He was right.

Eiji scuffed his sandal in the dirt. "This game is stupid! Let's play ball." And the giggling group of children dissolved their circle, running to separate corners for a new game with the tempting red toy. Kenji ran to his father, holding the ribbon.

"Here, Tou-chan!" and off he went to take his place in the new game. Kenshin stood, rubbing the ribbon between forefinger and thumb, wondering. _He's only three..._

"I told you, Husband. It's time to begin training," Kaoru had apparently been watching too and she now stood on the porch. "It may be Meiji, but it would be a crime to waste kenki like that."

"Aa, you're right, as always Kaoru-dono."

Kenji's first lesson would be the prudence of occasionally guessing wrong.


	8. Bathtime

This is just a funny little drabble. Just silliness.

* * *

"Ne, Kenshin, no moping," his wife handed him tea and a cake, sitting next to him on the porch.

"Kenji hates this one, Kaoru-dono," and his voice was as limp as his bright hair, his entire posture radiating misery.

"No, he does not!" Kaoru's voice was firm. "He loves you, just like he's always loved you."

"...he pulls this one's hair."

" _I_ pull your hair, and I certainly don't hate you," she said, and tugged his bangs. "And sometimes you like it when I pull your hair." Her smile was naughty.

He smiled weakly at her teasing, and she scooted closer to rest her head on his slumped shoulder.

"...alright, alright," she sighed, "I'll bathe him for the rest of the month."

His eyes lit like a lantern. "Thank you!" and he kissed her, there on the porch in the middle of the day, then stuffed the cake in his mouth and scuttled away before she changed her mind.

Kaoru shook her head and winced, imaging the horrors of bathing her four year old son, and the weeks of animosity to come. _What a woman does for love,_ and she drank the rest her tea like a shot of cheap sake.


	9. Memories

And now for something completely different! Pushing the boundaries on the T rating for a whole lot of implied naughtiness.

No person lands in our lives wholly formed; everyone has a past, and Kenshin spent a decade traveling all over the country on foot. Not all of his memories can possibly be bad. And also, he's young and exotically good looking and deliberately un-intimidating - and no young man is going to refuse every offer that comes his way...

* * *

"Kenshin, wake up!" Kaoru's voice roused him, her hand shaking his shoulder. "Are you alright? Was it a nightmare? You were...moaning..." She narrowed her pretty blue eyes as Kenshin blinked owlishly in the lamp light. "Not a nightmare?" She pursed her mouth and tilted her head and the amusement on her face made him blush.

"Eh...no, it was not." His wife smiled, shook her head, and flopped back into the bed bedside him. "I haven't had that dream in many years," he pulled her into his arms, "but this is better, so it is." Her hair smelled like flowers, and he relaxed around her, drifting again. Kaoru had other ideas, apparently, pushing back to meet his eyes.

"Well, if you're moaning in my bed and it's not about me, you could at least tell me about it!" Her bright eyes were laughing, no anger and no hurt anywhere on her and Kenshin smiled for her. "You promised," she wheedled, "and there's no way that was an _unpleasant_ dream, so confess, already."

And she was laughing, and so much more confident now than she was a year ago, and when had she ever held his past against him? Besides, he had promised... so he laughed, and pulled her into his arms and onto his chest and told her.

_He'd only been twenty one at the time, and just passing through a little village when he'd run out of money. A few inquiries had led him to a small cottage outside of the town owned by two widowed sisters, a not unusual circumstance with the recent war. The roof needed extensive repairs and the women agreed to room, board, and pay. The younger one had watched him all day and he had been a little embarrassed and a whole lot pleased. After nightfall, he learned that the women_ were _widows but definitely_ were not _sisters, and he proceeded to spend a highly... educational...week in that little cottage._

Now thirty and comfortably married, the memory was almost embarrassing, but Kaoru was quivering with laughter as she rested against him and that alone was worth enduring the telling. She lifted her head from his chest, mischief written large on her face, fingers tracing a random pattern across his collar bone. "Do you think they still live there?"

"Oro? Um, I doubt it, beloved, that was a very long time ago, that it was. Why?"

"Well, you see, I think that I'd like to send them a letter."

"...A letter?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded. "A letter. A letter just brimming with thanks because-" Kenshin gasped, then laughed, and flipped her onto her back, "-it occurs to me that they probably taught you that thing you do with your hand while you-" and she didn't have the breath to continue as her husband tickled her mercilessly.

He rested his head on her chest and smiled as he watched her calm. "How did I end up with such a cheeky wife?" He kissed her breastbone.

"Just lucky, I think." She was combing her small hands through his hair. "Tell me another. Something nice."

Kenshin hummed, and closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "I was passing through Kai one spring, and I met this woman-"

"Another woman?" She tugged his hair and he huffed a laugh.

"She was old enough to be my grandmother, and walked a little like a mantis, with her hands always up, so she did." Her laughter echoed in her chest under his ear, "and she scolded me for not helping her with her parcels, and I went to work for her for a few days...she had the most ridiculous sweet tooth... She taught me to make ohagi, that she did." Kaoru hummed, and stroked his hair and the cicadas sang and he told her about the strange, kind, irascible old woman he had met, all the while enjoying the feel of his wife's body softening under him and listening to the rhythm of her breathing until he, too, fell into dreamless sleep, smiling into her soft skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Author's note*
> 
> Aw, I got my very first flame for this story. I must be legit! Anyway, to my reviewer/s that feel that Kenshin would never have casual sex, and that he has only ever been with two women: I respectfully disagree.
> 
> Why do I think that Kenshin would have sex with a pretty, willing lady or two along the way? Because it's likely: he's not Christian, he has no cradle-guilt associated with sex, premarital or otherwise and his culture wasn't shaped by Christianity either. He's also a man, and men disassociate sex from love for a myriad of chemical and biological reasons.
> 
> Being said, to those folks out there that feel that Kenshin is a really unique guy (cause he is) and that he would choose to abstain for all his own reasons, I say "cool."
> 
> 'Cause that's the great thing about fanfiction! Anything not strictly canon is all up for grabs and can be anything we want it to be. Fandom is great because it allows all of us to bring our own ideas to a great central idea. There are some amazing stories that feature Kenshin as an adorable damn-near-virgin, and I love those stories and I respect those authors.
> 
> Happy Reading! :)


	10. Unreasonable Fears

'Cause Kenshin strikes me as the kinda guy that goes crazy when the people in his life hide things from him.

* * *

The lamp was out. Again. Kenshin resisted the urge bare his teeth.

Last night he had rebelled and tried to light the lamp. Kaoru had distracted him quite effectively,but not before he had formed the unpleasant suspicion that Kaoru was deliberately, and literally, keeping him in the dark. Kenshin frowned at the shadow of his wife in their bed. Why would she be concealing something from him? What could possibly be so bad? Bruises or scars or... _what was she hiding?_

With quiet purpose, he strode to the chest and struck a match.

"Kenshin? You'll wake the baby," her voice was quiet, "blow that out."

"Kenji-chan could sleep through a canon blast, that he could." The baby's ability to sleep was only rivaled by that of a cat. Kenshin began to undress for bed.

"...I'm tired, Kenshin, put out the lamp so I can sleep."

"No."

"Mou!" Kaoru sat up, glaring at him. "Kenshin! Put out the lamp!" He slid under the covers with her.

"No," and he pulled his frowning, angry wife into a kiss. With a bit of effort he could tell she began to soften and he pressed his advantage, his hands in her hair, crowding her with his body. She was responding now, making soft little sounds and stroking her hands over his shoulders. He began to guide her down under him, smiling into her mouth as he reached for the ties to her yukata.

She yelped, slapping his hands and leaping half off the futon onto the floor. "Pervert!" She had the yukata clenched closed at her neck with both hands. Shocked, Kenshin closed his open mouth with a click, and stared. His wife began to blush and avoided meeting his eye.

"Kaoru?"

"I'll.. I'll just turn out the lamp." She began to rise, her face crimson.

"No." He caught her arm, pulling her down and back onto the futon. "...What are you doing, beloved?" She kept her face turned away, her cheeks still red. "What is it that you don't want me to see?" Her response was sub audible. "Kaoru. Tell me." Whatever she was covering up was important, and she was _hiding_ _it from him._ He squashed down his worry and his anger and waited.

"It's just.." she twisted her sleeves, arms crossed protectively across her stomach. "Things are... different..." she was whispering now, "since the baby." He blinked, and stared.

"Different."

She nodded, and peeked at him from beneath her bangs.

"You've been hiding from me because -because things are _different_?"

"Mou!" She looked angry now, and Kenshin was far more comfortable with that than the shy stranger of a moment ago. "I had a baby, Kenshin, of course things are different!"

_Of all the..._ "Kaoru, beloved." What on earth was he supposed to say? "Why would you-"

"Because I've gone all, all _soft a_ nd, and... fat." She'd hidden herself and frightened him silly because she thought... A semi-hysterical laugh wanted to be set free. Kenshin ruthlessly squashed it.

"Kaoru," his voice was firm. "You are not fat. Not by any definition." She shucked her sleeping robe in a quick, firm motion, tossing it angrily into a corner, and he sucked in a rapid breath through his nose. She pinched some little bit of loose skin on her belly, presenting it as though it were a worm in a flower.

"Look!"

"I am looking." And he was, his mouth gone dry and his blood supply rapidly relocating south.

"My belly is soft, my hips are even _wider_ than they used to be, my breasts are just _huge_ and Megumi-san said that I'm not to exercise more than an hour a day yet-" But Kenshin had long ago stopped listening. He pulled her down underneath him and proceeded to win the argument of her attractiveness rather definitively.


	11. Truth

Kaoru acted oddly when she confronted Kenshin at Hiko's home outside of Kyoto. And he was just as weird. So, viola! Tiny drabble.

Takes place after Hiko and Kenshin conclude their first night of training, after Kenshin's had a bath and Kaoru's been waiting this whole time...

* * *

The night was warm and dark, laying heavy against her skin. Hiko's mountain was beautiful, really, the lights of Kyoto seeming to float in the valley below. Fireflies flashed in the field under her, playing in the tall grasses. She heard the steps behind her, and looked down at her lap.

He sat on the grass beside her, smelling like soap from his bath and _Kenshin_ , and her chest squeezed tight. They sat for a long while, not speaking and not touching, and she felt... sad. She hadn't expected to feel sad, not now that she'd found him, but she did anyway. Not desolate, not grieving like she had in Tokyo, but sore and bruised and raw.

"Say that you missed me. Even if it's a lie, just say it, please." .

"This one wouldn't lie to you, Kaoru-dono." She looked up at him finally, and this time he let her see. "This one missed you every step of the way, so I did."


	12. Epiphany

Not sure if this is Manga!Canon 'cause my translation isn't quite up to that, but I thought I heard her teasing him in the anime during a rewatch, and it was just so damn perfect...ugh.

Written 'cause I think that the last thing Kenshin really intended was to allow Kaoru to mean so much to him, and I don't think he'd appreciate the revelation.

Placed during Jineh, obviously.

* * *

She was lovely when her hair tumbled down, gleaming with blue highlights in the sunshine, her hand extended with the ribbon. Then she said her little speech, and he stared at her, eyes opened wide in wonder. She was worried for him, worried over his safety, and worried about his return to _her_. She was worried, and it was heart warming, in the truest sense of the word; his chest felt warm and full. For a moment, he was very happy.

Then Jineh snatched her from the riverbank, the _bastard_ , and how had he muffled his _ki_ like that? The river was faster even than Kenshin, and there was no way to get himself into that boat without capsizing them all into the dangerous current. The rage he felt was startling in its intensity, sharp edged and burning. He wanted to roar and rend, and his jaw ached from how tightly his teeth were grinding. Some distant corner of his mind registered that this wasn't normal, that what he felt was... possessive.

But there was no time for anything what wasn't how to locate and then _maim_ Jineh, and figuring himself out would have to wait.

It was as she lay on the ground, gasping, that she told him: " _I'm fine, Kenshin, that I am."_ That she was _teasing_ him as she wheezed, that she had managed to spare him the thing he had been about to do... Kenshin was full of gratitude and relief, overflowing with it. For just a second, he wanted to cry, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to take back his non-killing vow just so that he could make it again and lay it at her feet like a gift. And then Jineh said something stupid and that moment was over and it was more pain and blood and motion.

.

.

.

Later that night, clean and bandaged, he lay in his comfortable bed and stared at the familiar ceiling of his room. The world was quiet, now, and he had a moment to think over the day, and what he saw...

He was a twenty-eight year old penniless widower with stained hands and a filthy past -and he was head over heels in love.

_Kami-sama,_ what a mess.


	13. Price

Even trained and seasoned fighters are afraid during a fight; you'd have to be an idiot or a sociopath (or an emotionally traumatized, semi-suicidal rurouni) to feel NO fear while people try to kill you with pointy objects. The purpose of training is to be physically able to fight, yes, but also to be able emotionally.

Kenshin was torn apart by guilt and grief for a very, very long time. Even after the ougi, and learning to value his own life I think that he still had some pretty significant healing to do. I also think that it would all feel a bit new for Kenshin because I don't think he's tried on much emotional range in a long time.

* * *

.

The first fight after Enishi was a revelation. It was a rather large group of bothersome thugs, and deteriorating body or not, Kenshin knew that he outclassed them like he knew that the sun would rise each morning. The fight itself lasted about six minutes and most of that was spent trying to talk some reason into their "leader," such as he was.

It was after they were all down, and obviously not planning to get up again, that Kenshin noticed the tiny tremor in his hands as he sheathed the sakabatou. He suppressed the urge to grimace and mentally acknowledged the unpleasant twist in his stomach.

He had been afraid. His battle pitch had been higher, his kenki freer. He hadn't been afraid during a fight, not for himself and his own life, in many, many years. He'd been afraid for others, afraid of failure, angry, resigned, annoyed, determined... but not _afraid_ of death. It was odd, that it was.

He turned his feet towards home, stopping to gently reassure Tanaka-dono that the thugs would not bother her again. He was too quiet during dinner, he knew, and Kaoru's pretty mouth was pulled into a frown. He could see the moment that she decided not to ask, her features clearing and her mood turning cheerful.

It was two stories into her account about her adventures in wedding planning with Tae-dono, her eyes bright, her smile brighter, her gestures large and grand, and her face full of affection, that he realized what had happened.

The only people who were afraid were those with something precious to loose; those with a reason, wonderful and terrible, to look forward to tomorrow.

What a tiny price to pay for all that he had been given.


	14. Resolve

I don't often write angst. Tell me if you like it, of if it's miss, this one is a stretch for me.

Set after right before Kenshin leaves for Kyoto, of course.

* * *

**I HAVE LOVE IN ME THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU CAN SCARCELY IMAGINE AND RAGE THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE. IF I CANNOT SATISFY THE ONE, I WILL INDULGE THE OTHER.**

_**Frankenstein** _ **by Mary Shelly**

Alone in his room, he knelt on the floor and packed his one small bag. The red kimono, Kaoru's gift, was folded neatly to the side. It had been altered to fit him by Kaoru's own hand, cut down until it wouldn't fit most other men. Perhaps Yahiko would grow into someday; for some reason the idea that no one would wear it again made him unspeakably sad.

Ironic that an object that had previously brought him such pride and pleasure now brought heart ache, just by looking at it.

He had stood in this room, his room, arms spread and carefully still as Kaoru had fussed around him. She had chatted nervously while she worked, checking the lines of the shoulders, the length against his wrists, her small warm hands stroking down his back and arms as she adjusted the fit, placing chalk mark and pins. She always chewed at her lower lip when she was nervous, and even back then he had enjoyed the touch of her hands, admired the shining pink flesh as she nibbled, her small straight teeth.

It had made him feel like a part of this place, wearing something that once been her father's. It had been physical evidence that he belonged to the Kamiya Dojo, that he belonged to her. Maybe ten years was long enough, maybe he had finally became a man again, maybe he had finally outran the killer in his own heart. Each day that he wore it, his fingers would trace her small neat stitches and he had felt... so happy. Happy to be here, happy at the thought that he may, somehow, be allowed to keep this for himself. On days when he wore that red kimono, he had hoped that maybe it had finally been enough.

He couldn't even be angry at Saito anymore. The wolf had come calling and he had been forced to acknowledge that a person could not, could never, outrun their own nature.

The idea of Kamiya Kaoru in the arms of a murderer was unacceptable, even if that man was himself. And so he would leave. He would answer the call of his country and continue his struggle alone. He would cut out his heart and leave it here, in this quiet room, on this backstreet of Tokyo, and take his taint far away from this place, far away from her.

His gaze flicked to that red kimono again, and shame and bile rose in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed deep, and began to prepare himself.

She deserved to hear it from his own lips.


	15. Seduction

I"ve been writing some heavy stuff lately, so here's something silly to change the vibe.

Probably only amusing if you have children of your own. :D

* * *

Kenshin grinned into the dishwater, allowing the smile to steal across his face now, where Kaoru couldn't see it. He glanced out the window, could see her taking the laundry from the poles. She had been trying to _seduce_ him today and he was definitely entertained; it was almost worth it to watch her attempts – and her reaction to the results.

Kenji was six months old, and had been teething for over a week. Kenshin had felt four angry welts under the his gums at last count. The baby nursed constantly for comfort, slept little, and demanded an inordinate amount of attention. At this point, if Kaoru had walked into the kitchen, stripped naked, and laid down on the table Kenshin would have considered himself seduced. Truly. His beloved wife, however, appeared to want a little more from their love life, and he would follow her lead.

She really was trying.

.

.

.

It had begun after Kaoru's morning kata, when she had made very deliberate eye contact, then proceeded to make a great show of stretching. He had been sweeping the yard, and his mouth had gone dry watching her. Her lithe arms reached overhead, her back arched as she stood on tiptoe, lush breasts pushed forward. She hummed with pleasure, her expression blissful. She brought her arms down, and strokedover her chest. His breath stuttered at the sight of her small hands on her own body. He had taken one stunned, trance-like step towards her when she'd suddenly yelped and clamped both arms over her breasts.

Kenshin knew that look, although he hadn't seen it in a while. It was happening less often now, but it was unmistakable; the sultry caress had caused her milk to let down, and she'd gone from temptress to embarrassed and soggy mother in an instant. Her face had turned glowing red, and she'd rushed to go change clothes. He'd been left standing alone in the yard, aroused and startled and on the verge of a life-endangering bout of laughter.

She'd been slightly downcast at lunch, but his wife nothing if not resilient. By mid afternoon, she had unveiled her second plan, which apparently involved polishing the already gleaming planking of the porch. She knew, _she knew,_ how he felt about her hips and bottom, and the hands and knees chore was guaranteed to make his hands twitch. He continued to wash the laundry for a moment and watched his wife's posterior swaying back and forth, back and forth... She glanced coyly over her shoulder, and Kenshin's hypnosis snapped.

Who cared if it was mid-day? Kenji was taking a nap for a change, and any visitor to the dojo could damn well come back tomorrow. Kenshin tossed the shirt in the rinse bucket and climbed to his feet, a determined look on his face. He didn't make it halfway to the porch before the distinct cry of an infant ruined their chances.

"Mou!" Kaoru tossed her polishing cloth to the planking in an endearing show of temper and stomped into the house.

.

.

.

It was now after dinner and Kenshin was very, very amused in the resigned way of sexually frustrated parents everywhere. Really, he had been rather flattered by the effort. He watched her a moment longer, then sighed and went to bathe his son.

After helping to bathe, dress and soothe a fussy little boy, Kaoru seemed somewhat wilted. Kenji had cried himself out, and they had perhaps four hours until he woke, demanding to be nursed and rocked and walked. They lay side by side in bed. She stared at the ceiling, apparently coming to a decision, and Kenshin waited silently.

"Kenshin?" She sounded frustrated.

"Yes?"

"...I'm too tired to be on top. Come over here."

"Yes, beloved," and he obliged his sweet, cherished wife with vigor.


	16. Discovery

Another one of those with dialogue lifted verbatim from the Manga, word for word. Please note that a small bit of internal dialogue near the end is also lifted verbatim, those of you that have read the Manga will definately recognize it, but I've underlinedit to avoid any confusion. Again, all spoken dialogue and the underlined bit aren't mine.

This is the last four minutes of the fight with Enishi at the dojo.

* * *

The damnable giant had him pinned to the wall, and there was _no time for this!_ Enishi had already disappeared and _kami-sama_ only knew where Kaoru was. Battle pitch was thrumming in Kenshin's veins and being unable to move had his rage and fear spiraling tight, his heart ready to burst.

Then Sano hit the man like a meteor and Kenshin was free. His sakabatou, his blessed, trusted sakabatou was in his fist and he gained his feet uncaring for anything other than following that point where Enishi had vanished.

"Kaoru-dono." His breath was ragged in his lungs, razors in his chest.

"Kaoru-dono." _Wait, Kaoru-dono, I'm coming. Wait for me until I get there._ He ignored the pain and the blood loss and the blades that used to be air, and kept running. The smoke was disorienting, the familiar shapes of his home shadowed and twisted forms on the edge of his vision. _Where are you?_ He nearly stumbled when the scent of white plum drifted to him, just a whiff.

"The fragrance of white plums." Enishi materialized from the fog. _He shouldn't be here, not yet! He can't be-_ "To me, it is the fragrance of my sister. For you, it is the end-"

"Enishi! What did you do to Kaoru-dono?"

"The fragrance is your guide. Follow it without loosing your way. There you shall find the answer you seek." Enishi stepped back into the smoke, blending away like the specter of a nightmare, and Kenshin didn't care.

_It was only a moment, just a moment lost with that giant of a man. Enishi couldn't have- Not yet, Kaoru-dono would have fought, it can't be over yet._ Kenshin didn't bother to pursue Enishi, his feet taking him forward and he thought that this must be the way to the training hall.

"Kaoru-dono!" _Be safe, Kaoru-dono. Just wait until I get there._

"Look carefully with your eyes!" The voice was from everywhere and nowhere.

"Kaoru-dono!!" _Wait for me, Kaoru-dono, I'm coming. I'm coming, please._

"Grieve! Scream! Mourn!" The smell of white plum was nauseatingly intense now. "And then die weeping!" There, the outline of the hall.

"Kaoru-dono!" _Please, please, I'm coming. I'm coming. Please._ He didn't bother to find the door, there was still a hole in the wall as wide as a man, and he forced his limbs, heavy and numb, over the rubble and inside.

Then for moment, the whole world stopped, and Kenshin stared.

There was a sword.

There was a sword in Kaoru's chest and she was pinned against the wall.

But she was still. She was still, when she should have been struggling or crying.

If she was alive, she would've been struggling, pinned like that.

Her eyes were open, and she was still. His mind worked on the problem in that eternity that was truly only a second in time.

She was already dead, and Kenshin reeled from the reality in front of him, his sword dropping from nerveless fingers.

_What good is Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu..._

_What good is Himura Kenshin..._

"Kaoru-dono," it was a whisper, a pathetic ribbon of sound, a plea torn from his unworthy mouth.

_Again. I have failed to protect the person who is most important to me..._

He fell to his knees, ten steps away from her, bracing himself over on shaking arms.

"KAORU." And Kenshin wept.

.

.

.


	17. Memorial

Kenshin is one of three people (himself, Enishi, and Oibore) that really remember Tomoe as a real person. I find that sad.

* * *

.

It was snowing. It was the first this year, and Kenshin sat on the porch, wrapped in his warmest coat and watching the flakes drift down. The first snow always seemed a tribute to Tomoe: such a little thing, a small remembrance of a good woman. So he sat, and watched the snow while Kaoru put the baby to bed. Kaoru was a kind woman at heart...surely she wouldn't mind.

Last winter things had been so busy with Kaoru's pregnancy and then when the baby arrived, busy was an understatement. Kenshin certainly didn't regret any of last winter, but he had missed this little memorial. The first snow would always belong to Tomoe.

"Kenshin?" He looked up, and smiled at his wife, her arms overflowing with blankets. "It's snowing, huh?" She sat down, unfolding quilts. "Kenji's asleep, so there's a little time." And then she unapologetically settled herself into his space, between his feet and against his chest, busily wrapping them both in warm blankets. She shifted, curling into him, her face tucked into his neck, warm and soft. Finally contented, she let out a soft hum.

Kenshin felt a bit conflicted. He couldn't really offer an adequate remembrance to his first wife with his second wrapped around him like a scarf, but asking her to move seemed out of the question; Kaoru was always welcome in his arms.

"Tell me about her."

"Oro?" She looked up and smiled, her eyes as blue as clear skies.

"Tomoe-san. That's what we're doing, right?" She tucked into his neck again. "What was her favorite food? How did she wear her hair? Tell me about her. It's snowing."

Kenshin squeezed her tight, curled around her in return, and told her. Tomoe had not seemed so real nor so close in a long time.

Kaoru was a very kind woman.


	18. Skintime

Bathing babies in Japan is a task customarily assigned to the father in an attempt to promote bonding. It's called "skintime." Pictures of MY son's first bath still make me laugh; tiny babies generally despise water.

Forgive me, Kenshin, I've projected my own experience on to you.

Kenji's first bath.

* * *

"There, that's perfect, so it is." Kenshin dried his hands and turned to the chubby pink baby laying naked on his blanket. The baby looked back, or seemed to be, his blue eyes still unfocused, his legs curled up and his little arm waving unsteadily in the air. There was the basin of suitably warm water, soap and a cloth, several towels and fresh clothes and... baby.

 _Okay, this shouldn't be that hard._ Kenshin picked up his son, carefully supporting the baby's head, and gently lowered his arm, hand and baby into the water.

"Oro!" It was only superior reflexes that kept Kenji safe and Kenshin dry as he executed a drunken pirouette to escape the path of the baby's reflexive urination at the touch of warm water. Leaning against the table, his son cradled close to his chest, Kenshin sat still and panted in surprise while the baby cooed at the unexpected motion. Kenji went back to his blanket and one of those soft towels was used to clean the floor.

"Alright. Maybe a cloth to cover the important parts, eh?" Baby appropriately covered with a small rag, mess on the floor cleaned, Kenshin repositioned them both and tried again. Down went Kenshin's arm and son and this time he managed to keep the baby in the water.

"There now, Kenji-chan, that's not so bad, is it? Now Otou-san will clean you, that I will." _Damn._ The rags were out of reach. One arm, baby, and hand still in the water, Kenshin reached and wriggled and mentally cursed until he managed to drag one of the elusive things within range. Mission accomplished, Kenshin wetted the rag and reached to clean the baby's face. The instant Kenshin's gentle, tentative, cloth-covered hand touched the baby's head, he began to wail.

"Shh, shh, Kenji-chan, it's only water. Otou-san needs to clean you, that I do." The baby was rapidly turning an alarming shade of dark pink, waving tiny fists in outrage, his little legs jerking, splashing water on the floor and on his father.

"Well, Otou-san thinks you are wet enough, that I do." Another wave of water crashed over the edge of basin and soaked into Kenshin's hakama. "So now, it is time for soap, eh?" Kenshin gently soaped his wailing, thrashing, outraged child. The baby's howls took on a strange, high pitched and hoarse quality that reminded Kenshin of nothing so much as an infuriated cat.

"Almost, done, Kenji-chan, just a little bit more." Desperately shuffling his screaming infant, Kenshin rinsed his son. "This is supposed to be _pleasant_ , Kenji-chan." Kenshin gritted his teeth and finished as quickly as possible.

He picked up the dripping, screaming baby and wrapped him in a towel, trying to keep his voice soothing and calm. The baby wasn't buying it. At all. Staggering to his feet his bounced the boy, cooing soothing words until the screams dropped in volume to traumatized whimpering.

Kenshin leaned against the wall and panted, his clothing half soaked, his hair frizzing out of its customary tail. He said silent prayers of thanks that his friends were out and his wife asleep.

That was not something that needed witnessed. Ever.


	19. Festival

I can't fix the vibe of this story and it's driving me crazy!

Prompt: Candy Apple Red; courtesy of: flashfiction 365. tumblr prompts

* * *

Kenshin sat waiting with his baby in his lap and Yahiko fidgeting on his left side. Kenji had both dimpled hands grasping his foot, and he appeared to be contemplating how best to get it into his mouth.

"What's taking them so long?!" Kenshin tried not to smile as Yahiko's fidgeting intensified.

"This one is certain they will be ready soon, Yahiko." Kenji seemed to decide that if he could not bring foot to mouth, mouth to foot would work as well, his small body folding in half, his mouth engulfing on his elusive prize. Kenshin did smile now, disengaging baby from toes and shifting the boy onto his shoulder.

Yahiko sighed. "Ya know he'll cover you in slobber, right? Kaoru'll kill you if they're finally ready to go and your festival clothes are soaked in drool."

"Mm, perhaps. Hand me that cloth, please." Kenshin sat waiting, Yahiko's fidgeting progressing until the boy appeared to be in danger of developing some permanent tick and his son snuffling quietly into his neck.

_Ah,_ there was Kaoru approaching. Kenshin looked up and smiled and Yahiko quickly caught on, desperately straightening his stripped yukata and staring at the doorway. Kaoru stepped through, her own smile wide and beautiful.

"Kaoru-dono looks even more lovely today than yesterday, that she does." He had learned at least a few things in two years of marriage. He was pleased when his wife blushed prettily.

"Th- thank you, Kenshin." She brushed small hands over her obi, obviously preening. "Tsubame-chan is ready, too." Tsubame stepped through, now fourteen and dressed like the young woman she almost was, her yukata a pretty light green with a white pattern, her obi a blush pink with Kaoru's most elaborate bow. Kenshin rose, stepped around a stuttering Yahiko, and gave Tsubame a gentle smile.

"Tsubame-dono looks lovely as well, so she does. Shall we go?" Then there was the usual flutter of gathering up items and finding shoes and off they went. They met a prettily dressed Tae at the outskirts of the park, and Kenshin began to guide his small group around the area, navigating through the crowd. His family excitedly ranged ahead, exclaiming over various things from the vendors. Kenji looked around with wide eyes, propped on Kenshin's shoulder, his fuzzy head bobbing with the effort.

Kenshin bought roasted corn at the closest vendor. Cheerfully munching his treat, he watched his family playing games (Kaoru won a rather pretty paper fan). He offered the baby the empty cob, smiling as Kenji's eyes crossed as he brought it to his mouth, gumming enthusiastically at the new texture and flavor. While the girls danced, he bought dango. He dabbed a little of the sticky sauce onto the baby's tongue and laughed outright at the face of disgust Kenji made.

On the way home Kenji finally fell asleep against his father's chest, chubby hands griping his collar tightly, his small lips parted and his face peaceful. Yahiko walked Tsubame and Tae home, turning left while Kenshin and Kaoru went right. He allowed his hand to rest on her back, gently guiding her through the crowds towards home. Kenshin laid Kenji in his basket, and smiled over at his wife as she lingered in the doorway.

"He'll want to nurse soon." Kaoru's eyes were dark and shining in the dim light of their bedroom. "There's really no point in going to sleep quite yet, if he'll wake us anyway." He raised an eyebrow and waited; clearly his wife had something in mind.

"Would you like for me to pour you some sake on the porch?" He smiled.

Kenshin sat on the porch and spoke quietly with his wife and waited for his son to wake. _This was perfect_ , he thought, sipping sweet sake and watching the summer stars.


	20. Right

Nursing someone back to health isn't glamorous and is potentially embarrassing. Kaoru is openly protective and quite possessive and I can't see her letting anyone else take care of those she considers her own.

Placement is obvious.

Prompt: Shreds of Doubt. flashfiction 365. tumblr prompts

* * *

Kaoru shifted Kenshin's arm as it lay over her shoulders, adjusted her grip on his waistband. "Almost there." He hummed an affirmative, carefully moving his feet while she helped support his weight. It had been several days now since they'd come home from the island, days of recovery, and Kenshin was strong enough to walk to the bath house – with a little help.

Sano and Yahiko had already made the trip and were sleeping now. They were all recovering well, but little things were still enough to have them sleeping for hours afterward. Kaoru had helped the others, too. Less so, yes, they weren't as injured as Kenshin, but they had needed the bath house prepared and their wounds re-dressed and settled back into bed after they were done. That had been more comfortable than this.

Doing what she had done, helping them bathe and eat and dress, that was the role of a family member. Those actions were the duty, were the right and place and privilege of a mother or daughter, a sister or wife. With Sano and Yahiko it had been easy because she was secure in her place- there was no shared blood, but for those two, Kaoru _was_ a sister. She was the little sister, and the older sister, to be teased and protected.

She helped Kenshin up the steps, shut the shoji, and helped him undress, careful of his many bandages and wounds. She fiercely willed herself not to blush. Kenshin was quiet, helping when he could and standing as steady as possible. She was not his family, not his wife, and this was not her place, but she still needed to do this.

With Kenshin she was... ambiguous. Oh, Kaoru knew that she loved him like she loved herself, like she loved kenjutsu, like she loved the sun, and she knew that Kenshin loved her in return. Still though, there was nothing formal between them and she probably should have let Aoshi do this. That just seemed so _wrong_ though, and she did not ask and Aoshi had never offered.

She helped Kenshin undress, helped him down to the slatted floor (he was not steady enough to sit on the stool), put the things he needed within reach. She turned away, kneeling and waiting while he cleaned those parts of himself that he could.

"That's... that's all this one can do now, Kaoru-dono, so it is." She turned back and gave him a small smile, turning her attention to her task, washing his legs and feet, his uninjured arm and back. She was carefully thorough with his hair; the sketchy washing she'd been able to do in his room had not been adequate and his hair had suffered for it.

She soaped it twice, gently massaging his scalp, carefully scratching with her fingernails to work loose all the fine crystals of salt and sand. She probably should have been embarrassed by the small noises of pleasure that escaped him while she did the task, but she found that she wasn't.

She rinsed his hair and was done. She helped him dry himself, and he sat patiently, wrapped in a towel, while she redid his bandages. She could feel the fine tremors of his fatigue under her fingertips. She helped him dress then knelt behind him and quickly brushed his hair, trying to finish before he exhausted himself. After she was done, he leaned heavily against her, his back to her front, and she leaned back into him, holding him up and allowing him a brief rest before the walk back to his room.

She felt so tangled and conflicted and yet Kenshin appeared completely serene. They sat together and she couldn't keep the questions contained any longer.

"Kenshin?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

"Should I... Should I ask Aoshi-san to do this next time?" _Am I wrong? Am I selfish? Have I misunderstood?_

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "No." He reached back and caught her hand with his own. "No, Kaoru-dono. It is your right." He paused. "It will be your right."

* * *

Kaoruca, who stated: "It's a Kenshin's way of implying what he feels and plans to do"

True, in a way. I think that Kenshin considered their future openly settled by this point, which is why he was content to let Kaoru care for him in this manner. In fact, _I_ think he considered it settled when he declared himself home after Kyoto and I think that he considered things really _very_ settled after their little conversation about staying together forever.

I wrote Kaoru feeling a little doubt in the face of a very intimate moment, as Kenshin may have verbally declared himself but really there is no _formal_ relationship at all. It's not really another declaration, just reassurance, that yes _of course_ we'll get married, just as soon as I can walk. ;P


	21. Jitters

Because at some point, every bride panics. :)

* * *

Kaoru owned two kimono that were appropriate for a wedding reception. There were four obi that might be worn with those two kimono. Her best undergarments had been laid out and Tae had looked them over with little tutting sounds of disapproval. Kaoru's mothers jewelry had been retrieved from their little box and laid out, piece by piece, for selection. Kaoru needed new tabi.

The wedding was three days away, and it should be fun. It should be like playing with dolls. It should make her feel petted and fussed over and excited. Today, it just made her feel like vomiting from sheer nervousness.

Tae had run home to fetch a particular hairpin that would look nice with the kimono that had the white and yellow flowers. Kaoru stood in the center of her bedroom and practiced calm breathing, trying _not_ to visualize everything she could do that would humiliate herself, embarrass Kenshin, and shame her family.

"Kaoru-dono? This one thought you might like a cup to tea, so I did." Kaoru turned to him, a hand pressed to her rioting stomach. He stood in the doorway, holding a tea tray and looking so delightfully _Kenshin_ that she smiled despite herself.

"Yes, thank you, Kenshin. That would be nice." She started to gesture to her little table but realized that it was currently strewn with her underthings. She made a little _eep_ of panic and snatched them up, hiding them behind her back, her breathing taking on an edge of hysteria. He smiled at her gently and sat the tea tray down with his customary care.

"Kaoru-dono," he approached her, his sweet eyes tranquil. "You have no need to be nervous, that you do not. It is only this one, and our friends." Kaoru willed herself to calm, trying to believe him, trying to regain her even breathing, trying to keep her body angled in such a way that he couldn't see her best underwear clenched in her white knuckled grip.

And then she dropped her forgotten clothes to the floor when she was suddenly pulled into an warm embrace. " All be well, that it will," his voice was quiet, next to her ear. She could feel his words as well as hear them, a mild vibration in his firm chest as it pushed against her breasts. He was very warm, and he smelled like sandalwood and ginger and _man_. His body was as hard as stone, all whipcord lean muscle and angles, and feeling it pressed tightly against her was very different than admiring him from afar. For some strange reason her nose started to tingle.

It was over as suddenly as it begun, and Kaoru was certain that he probably said something before he left the room, but she just stood there. She stood there surrounded by clothes and nonsense and she couldn't have cared less. She knelt suddenly enough to make her knees protest but it didn't really register. Her blind groping turned up a fan for her burning cheeks.

_Oh my._


	22. Protection

I've always wondered why Kaoru didn't just tear Kenshin to pieces over the way he puts Yahiko forward and keeps her back from fights. This little piece was born out of that curosity, but it's honestly sort of terrible. I can't get the sentence structure to flow correctly, and I am just DONE torturing it. Drabbles are supposed to be relaxing, dammit!

* * *

Kaoru had accepted his leadership in the fight in Kyoto, did not challenge Kenshin's decisions when they were in danger. She had stood straight, head up, and refused to sow division in their group while in the presence of an enemy. Now that they were safe and alone and healing, however...

"How could you!" Kaoru was in a towering rage. "How could you set my student, _my student_ , to guard the Aoiya and belittle me by trying to keep _his master_ back?" Kenshin didn't defend himself, didn't protest. He didn't explain _._ She snarled and railed, and he took it all, and waited until her fury was spent. He reached out, touched her hand gently.

"This one is sorry that you were hurt by my actions, that I am." And that was it.

After she learned about his past, about poor Tomoe-san, when they were all home again after Enishi's Jinchuu, she thought she understood better. He had been unable to risk her because his heart couldn't bear the loss of another precious woman. Even so, it left her feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

As her husband, he let her teach, let her spar, and never once spoke against it. He massaged sore muscles and rubbed ointment on enormous bruises. He praised her abilities to her students and to strangers and never once seemed to perceive a contradiction.

It wasn't until she was pregnant that she finally, truly, understood.

It was night, and they were alone. She was sewing, and he'd sat behind her, wrapped around her, his hands on her curving belly. He was trying to feel the baby move, and she listened to him gasp and laugh as tiny fists and feet pressed into his palms.

He had not protected her because he thought her weak, she realized, nor because she was a woman. In the face of true danger, he had protected her, even all that time ago, because of _this_. Because she was the mother of his children-to-be, because she carried his future within her very body. Kaoru smoothed the tiny blanket she embroidered, and wondered for exactly how long Kenshin had carried the hope for _this future_.

And she smiled, content.

* * *

To all of my reviewers, thank you! You are all, honestly, the only reason I keep posting.

Especially Jasmine Blossom 625, Kaoruca, and kenkao4ever; you guys are awesome, thanks. :)


	23. Love, rated M

Because being over thirty doesn't mean you're dead. (I'm thirty-five, so there!)

*HEED THE M RATING kiddies, but it's not really smut and I don't intend it to be a habit, so I won't change the story rating as a whole, just this one*

Twenty years. They'd been married twenty years today. Kaoru smiled and placed the last flower into the vase that Hiko had sent. Maybe we should eat out tonight. Kenji was home, and had taken his siblings to the river to play and fish today, and Kaoru had no compunctions about continuing to press him into babysitting duty.

A clatter at the gate, and for a moment Kaoru thought that the children were home until she recognized her husband's distinctive footsteps. Ah, he's home early! He appeared in the kitchen, always unerringly able to find her in the house.

Her husband was still such a very handsome man, and at forty-nine now looked roughly her thirty-eight, his bright hair still bright and now long again, his dear face marked with only a few more lines than when they had met. He was wearing that lovely green kimono, the one that contrasted so nicely with his exotic coloring, and his white hakama hadn't suffered too badly from road dust today. Kaoru sighed happily.

"Kaoru-dono, the flowers look very nice, that they do." He sat down his traveling things, and he must have made his rounds very quickly indeed to be home so early. He took out a small package and placed it on table, circling around behind her to pull into a one armed embrace, her back against his chest.

Kaoru squealed a little, and quickly unwrapped the package. "Chocolate," she whispered, lifting one of the little pieces to her mouth.

"It's not really your present, but this one saw them this morning on my rounds and-"

"Shut up, Kenshin, I'm eating chocolate." He chuckled into her hair, and it vibrated pleasantly through his chest. Kaoru rolled the treat around her mouth, the imported stuff such a rare and delightful extravagance that it deserved to be savored. It was far too sweet to eat more than one or two anyway... maybe three... Then Kenshin's hand shifted south, and his smiling mouth found pleasant occupation with her neck.

"Kenshin?" He turned her to face him, both hands and mouth still traveling downward.

"...The children are all out, so they are..." His words were mumbled around his current mouthful. Kaoru was still for a moment, then began to cheerfully, and rapidly, strip them both in the bright sunshine of the kitchen. There was a fair bit of giggling like newlyweds and she was going to have more than one bruise in an awkward place later, but it was all worth it.

Laying on their dining table, she caressed all of his skin that she could reach and cooed encouragement, wrapping one strong leg over his waist and letting him bend up the other one until she could have licked her own kneecap (Kamiya Kasshin Ryu came with some benefits, afterall). She pulled the tie out of his hair and enjoyed the feel of the silky stuff against her skin. He's still so beautiful, she thought, smiling up at him.

A clatter at the gate made them both freeze, looking toward the noise as though they could see through walls.

"If you stop now, Kenshin, I'll have to kill you." He huffed a laugh, his attention returning to the task at hand with greater intensity, a very real need to finish up before they were caught by irreparably damaged children.

Finally, he jerked and shivered and collapsed against her chest. Kaoru petted his bright head as he panted into her breastbone, and subtly slipped her leg into a position that didn't require eye-crossing amounts of concentration to maintain. She let him cool down for a ten count, then unceremoniously rolled him off of her and began pulling her clothes back on, tossing him his own.

She was retying her hakama when he said it, for the forth time in twenty years:

"I love you."

She gasped, and dropped the ties, and she had to look ridiculous with her hair a mussed disaster and her mouth kiss-swollen and her hakama around her ankles and he had just said-

"Kenshin?" He had gotten his own clothing back on, and he was looking at her through his bangs while he finished his own ties. He crossed over to her and cradled her face in his sword calloused palms, pressed his forehead to hers.

"You are my wife, Kaoru, the mother of my children, and all of my reasons to smile for the last twenty years. Thank you." He pressed a small, chaste kiss to her mouth and stepped away, heading towards the door to intercept their children. Kaoru pressed a hand to her lips, happy tears pooling in her eyes.

"Oh, that man," her words were a shaky whisper. She tied a wobbly knot in her hakama and plopped down next to the table. "That man..." She popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth and chewed while she sniffled.


	24. Heartstrings

Prompt: Heartstrings: flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

* _A note on Kenshin's temper_ : Yeah, I really believe the man has a temper. I have a temper myself, and people always acted surprised when I say that, and say that they've never seen me angry, and I always reply: Of course you haven't!

Part of having a hellaceous temper is learning to control it.

Kenshin's temperament has always reeked of a person having excellent control of a fierce temper. I've always thought that Kenshin joined the revolution because of a belly full of fire at the injustice of things, and of course in the Manga there are several examples of him having been pushed past that excellent control of his.

* * *

Kaoru paused mid-stretch. The usual sounds of her husband working and her son playing were suspiciously absent. Her post-lessons fatigue forgotten in favor of curiosity, she finished her bows and leave taking, seeing her students out the gate. Then she turned and began a search.

 _Oh._ She pressed a hand to her mouth, standing in the yard and watching her boys as they sat on the porch. _It must have been an exciting day._

Kenshin sat propped against a pillar, eyes closed and breathing even, his now-short hair rustling in the light breeze . Four year old Kenji was cuddled in his father's lap, fast asleep, his still chubby hands gripping his favorite toy horse and one sandal hanging crazily off of his little foot.

Kaoru's heart warmed with affection; they looked so very much alike. Kenji's hair had darkened as he became a toddler, turning from his fire-bright baby tuft to a more sedate mahogany and, of course, he had always had her eyes. In every other way, however, he was a physical miniature of his father, from his narrow chin to his sharp nose. She'd initially been surprised by his brash and stubborn attitude, but Kenshin had laughingly asked her exactly what she thought he himself had been like as a child.

She'd been shocked; her mild-mannered, nurturing husband a moody, demanding child? She'd always peripherally understood that Kenshin had a temper. His anger had once helped to change the face of an entire country, after all. And his rage when she had been threatened in the past had been staggering.

" _It will be fine, Kaoru-dono, that it will. We will be patient, and provide him with focus and discipline and love. He will learn to control his temper. Better and sooner than this one did, one is certain."_ And her husband was true to his word, his plan, ever patient and affectionate and firm with their son.

Through it all, Kenshin smiled his _real_ smile. From very early in their relationship, Kaoru had noticed that Kenshin closed his eyes when his smiles were false. His true smiles crinkled the skin at the edges of his eyes and they stayed open, warm and content and focused on the thing that had made him happy. He'd given her that smile since their courting days. He'd smiled like that at simply everything during her pregnancy. He smiled like that at their son even when Kenji was at his most trying.

Kenshin adored children, really loved them, loved them as little people with their own opinions and flaws and challenges. He rarely seemed to mind that Kenji was often difficult, just smiled and gently, firmly, redirected the little boy into more appropriate behavior, patiently guiding him on his path. And Kenji, dear, beloved child that he was, pushed back and fought and argued and pulled hair and misbehaved.

And then her beloved boys would turn around and do things like this.

They would sleep curled around each other in a sunbeam. Or Kenji would catch a toad or some such thing, and they would name the thing and lay side by side on their bellies and admire what a very fine toad it really was. Or Kenshin would bring home some small toy or a trinket from the market and spend hours teaching Kenji to play with it or use it. It was during these times, these moments when Kenji was calm and receptive and affectionate, that Kaoru could see her husband's spirit shining through her son's face.

And now, even asleep, Kenshin was smiling as he cuddled their son on the porch. Kaoru's greatest wish for her husband was that one day he would have crow's feet wrinkles next to his eyes, evidence that he had spent many happy years smiling that real smile. It was exhausting, but surely one of her life's greatest accomplishments was having given this man a child.

Kaoru absently stroked her belly. _It's going to be even more tiring, soon. I hope we're ready for this._ She quietly stepped passed them, into the house, to make dinner while they napped. _I'll tell him tonight._


	25. Blue

Prompt: Eyes of Blue (s) : flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

Japanese names are HARD! What do you think? How many kids did they have? What are some good names for their kids? Give me some ideas, I need them for undisclosed reasons. :D

(Ironically, I had resolved to stop writing drabbles this week and start fleshing out my new big story, but these are just so much easier...)

* * *

It had been a easy birth, comparatively. Kaoru's labor had only lasted six hours, and the painful, awful pushing had taken a blessedly short twenty minutes. Only half a night after her first pains, Kenshin sat wrapped around his wife of the last twelve years, his chin on her shoulder, watching her feed their newborn daughter.

He'd been starting like a smitten fool for the last half hour. The baby's head was covered in surprisingly long black hair, and she had petal soft skin, and a beautiful bow shaped mouth. He smiled, and stared, and reached out a reverent hand to stroke the baby's soft hair. Her tiny mouth paused when he touched her, and her eyes scrunched tight.

Then she opened those eyes and Kenshin gasped. _Blue_. Blue like Kaoru's eyes, blue like Kenji's eyes, but different. Her eyes were the blue of blue jasmine, ringed in a rich tone several shades darker. Unfocused and vaguely annoyed at the interruption, she blinked and waved a tiny fist, bopping her mother.

"Oh, Kenshin." Kaoru's voice was an awed whisper. "Kenshin, do you think they'll change? I hope they stay like that. How pretty..."

"We should name her Hitomi, with eyes like that." Kenshin's voice was soft. Kaoru made a slightly rude noise, obviously trying not to laugh.

"We should name her "Jun" and hope for the best, with that rabble of brothers she's got." Kenshin laughed.

"Kaoru!" It was difficult to scold, and laugh, and stare like a besotted idiot all at once. "No daughter of ours is likely to be "obedient," beloved." He kissed Kaoru's temple and tightened his arms, taking more of her weight against him, and continued to admire his youngest child.

_Beautiful._


	26. Worth

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt Sick in Bed

Set very early, before Yahiko joined them.

Because so much of Kenshin's meager self worth is tied into what he can DO for others, and so little in who he IS.

* * *

Kenshin was a very strong-willed man. It was this bone-deep stubborn streak that had kept Kaoru ignorant of his illness until one morning when she'd entered the kitchen to find him making breakfast with fever-bright eyes and flushed cheeks, his voice a feeble croak.

She'd been furious, but how could she yell at him when he was obviously so ill? She'd not said a word, not trusted herself to speak without screaming, and had bundled him into bed despite his feeble, raspy protests. Carefully steeped medicinal tea and an uncomfortably warm fire were placed in his room, and she had finished breakfast, her jaw aching with repressed irritation.

He'd lain meekly in bed until around noon, when she'd had to chase him indoors again before he could take the laundry down from its poles. He had tried to help make dinner that night, too, displaying mulish tendencies that had Kaoru both wanting to pet him and beat him sensless.

He was still awake, or perhaps just awake again, when Kaoru herself was ready for bed. She selected a book and sat with him, reading pages until she was satisfied that he was out for the night.

.

He was not better the next day, nor the day after. Kaoru canceled her lessons at other dojos, staying close to home. She ran the household and cared for her reluctant ruruoni, bringing tea and rice and soup, bathing his forehead and monitoring his fever, reading to him and playing Shoji when he was restless.

On the fourth day, he didn't protest when she made breakfast without him so she went for the doctor. That night, she slept in his room.

.

She blinked awake to weak sunlight and violet eyes watching her. His fever must have broken at some point before morning, and he seemed much improved to her sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, Kaoru-dono." His voice was still a little odd.

"Good morning, Kenshin." She sat up from her nest on the floor, reaching over to feel his not-flushed face, smiling at the lack of heat. "You seem better. How do you feel?"

"This one is much better today, so I am." He paused, and seemed to be watching her carefully now, looking for something in her face. "This one should be fine to be up again, so I should."

Kaoru interrupted his polite nonsense with a frustrated noise. "Don't be so silly, Kenshin." She began to fold up her quilts. "You should stay in bed today, too." He made the beginning of a weak objection and she glowered at him. "You need to recover, you know. I'll bring you some books, and I'll be able to play some games with you this afternoon. Would you like the things to write some letters, maybe?" She waited for his answer, holding his gaze.

He looked so _confused_ , and Kaoru didn't understand. "This one is sorry to have been the cause of so much trouble, Kaoru-dono. Really, this one is much better now, and should be able to do some small chores, that I should." He began to sit up, lacking his customary grace, his hair messy and his yukata wrinkled, and for once he looked as human as everyone else. Kaoru frowned for a moment, and then figured it out, all in a rush. She suppressed the strange urge to laugh, all tangled up between sorrow and compassion and irritation.

She reached out, pushing him gently, firmly, back down onto his futon. "Kenshin." Her voice stopped his pointless objections. "Your health is worth more to me than laundry." Her wanderer looked surprised, and her heart broke for him a little. "This house has ran fine while you've been ill and it will run fine without you today, too." She realized that the repeated way she was smoothing the collar of his robe was almost a caress, and stopped, blushing, and patted him awkwardly over his heart.

"Kenshin." Her voice was quiet now. "Today... just rest."


	27. Vanity

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Over the Hill

Set post canon by several years – probably ten?

* * *

A letter from Aizu was always welcome, and moreso than usual right now. Kaoru set it on the table, prominently, and then lay in wait. She didn't bother hiding, that would be ridiculous, she merely occupied herself with some mending as nonchalantly as possible. _Ah, here he comes._

Her husband entered and she bit her lips to keep from smiling at the picture he made. He had a tub of clean folded laundry balanced in his arms, one small child riding piggyback and another running in excited circles at his feet. Their strange, adorable parade moved from the main room to the bedrooms and back, delivering clean clothes and chatting about squirrels and some type of new and interesting bug that they had found in the yard. Inevitably, they returned to her as she knew that they would. She had tea cakes, after all.

"Come have tea, everyone!" There was the usual fuss of getting wriggly children settled, and then Kaoru poured tea and distributed cakes. She picked up her mending again, trying to resist sending Kenshin sidelong glances. _He's so cute, though._ And he was, his hair frazzled from small hands, his kimono slightly damp, and a distracting amount of firm tanned skin visible at his collar.

"We have a letter today, Kaoru-dono?" He nodded at the bait.

"Mm, I've been waiting for you so that we could read it together."

"Ah." Did he look slightly less pleased than he should?

"Why don't you read it aloud, Kenshin?" And she gestured with her mending, clearly occupied. If she were anyone else, if they had not been married for as long as they had, she would have entirely missed his subtle grimace. He reached out, broke the seal,and smoothed the letter on to the table. She waited. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. She waited. He shifted nervously on his seat. She pounced.

"Aha! I knew it!"

"Oro!"

"Confess!"

"Oro?"

"Kenshin! You need reading glasses!"

"This one does _not_ need glasses, Kaoru-dono!' She sat aside her mending.

"Prove it." Her smile was predatory and he was sweating now. He picked up the letter, looking pained, and proceeded to slowly extend it out at arm's length, his beloved face scrunched a little.

"Kenshin," she reached forward and plucked letter from his grasp. "Either you need glasses- or you need longer arms."

* * *

'Cause reading glasses and that low ponytail would just be- mmhmm _yum_.


	28. Kiss

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts :Something Witnessed

Because my husband used to smile while kissing me and it was the sweetest compliment I ever received. :)

* * *

Kissing Kaoru made him feel like he was standing in sunshine, warm and happy. She was the only woman he had ever kissed that was shorter than he was, and he had found that he liked it, liked being bigger than she was, liked the way she leaned into him. After she had gotten used to it, Kaoru kissed with her whole self, pressed into him, and her weight was pleasant. The curves she enthusiastically pressed against him were more than pleasant.

He shifted a hand to the back of her head, felt the string pull against his sleeves and for a moment he remembered that they were in the kitchen and that maybe mid-day in the center of their home was not the most prudent place to kiss his young wife silly. Then she made a happy little noise and shifted, stroking a calloused hand against his chest and he forgot everything except her.

He pressed back against her, crowded her gently backwards, pressed her against the high table. A large radish rolled off, and the _thump_ as it hit the floor registered only dimly. Before he'd married this woman, he'd not known that it was possible to kiss and smile at the same time, but apparently it was. Every time he kissed her, he smiled into her mouth. During the pause between kisses, Kaoru kept tracing the upturned corners of his lips and he knew that she was pleased to see him grinning like the smitten fool that he was.

She was so warm, her mouth was soft and clever, and she smelled like flowers...

"Aaaaaahh!"

A traumatized scream fractured the peace and Kenshin leapt backwards, landing in a startled heap against the far wall.

"Yahiko!" Kaoru's voice cracked like a whip. "What are you doing?!"

"Vomiting!" He shrieked. "That's disgusting! I can't un-see that!" The boy should have known better; a surprised and embarrassed Kaoru in a kitchen... She chased him out the door, the two of them shouting insults, kitchen implements and vegetables flying in a barrage of impromptu weaponry.

"Oro," Kenshin groaned and picked himself up, dusting off the seat of his hakama. _The kitchen was definitely_ not _the place to be kissing Kaoru_. He looked around the disaster that had been his well-ordered kitchen and grinned to himself. _Well, not on Yahiko's training days, anyway._


	29. Finis

This is not the end of my drabble collection, it actually refers to the end of Kenshin, you see. I was experimenting with a stronger narrative voice, and it's definitely different. What do you think?

* * *

It was on a day like any other, the day that Kamiya Kenshin, Himura Kenshin, Shinta, died.

He had contracted an inflammation of the lungs shortly before the new year, and it had been a slow path to recovery. He _had_ recovered, with care and warmth and an excessive amount of unfortunate tasting tea, but he had not been able to recuperate fully. He had heard his children speaking quietly at night, worrying about his light, persistent cough. He had endured his wife's fussing and coddling with the patient understanding that was, perhaps, his greatest defining characteristic. And now it was early spring and a second illness had come, too close on the heels of the first, and he knew that he was going to die. More nasty tea had eased his cough, but it had failed to break his fever and the fluid in his lungs had him short of breath and dizzy even while resting.

His children and his grandchildren had all been called home, and his friends had come for judiciously brief but heartfelt visits. He had been allowed, with carefully washed hands, to cradle his second great-grandchild for the first and last time; she was a beautiful baby, with wispy black hair and her father's eyes. The Kamiya dojo had only rarely been this full, brimming with people that Kenshin loved, with people that all adored him in return.

He would be the first of the Kenshin-gumi to die, he would be survived by all of his children and all of his grandchildren, and the knowledge filled him with selfish joy. That he had been allowed to spend over half of his life in this place, caring for these people and that he had not had to spend a single day enduring their loss was a blessing of inestimable value. For a man so marked by early tragedy, he had a deep appreciation for the lack of sorrow he had had to endure for the last forty years.

Forty years in this place. The Kamiya dojo had been his _home_ , the nexus of his life, for forty years. This had been his bedroom for all of that time. Laying in bed, he was wrapped carefully in soft blankets stitched by his wife and daughter, his daughters in law, and that one quilt with the ragged, mangled embroidery from the hand of his eldest, tomboy granddaughter, the one that always made him smile. The ceiling above him was as familiar as his own hand, it's lines and planks a reassuring presence. There was a small spider in the left lower corner this week, spinning a small web, and Kenshin smiled at it, keeping its secret from his scrupulously clean daughter in law. He had always rather liked house spiders. They ate flies, after all.

His room was full of afternoon sunshine and it pleased him. He had never thought as a young man on those dark and blighted streets of Kyoto that he would have the honor of dying in bed in the sunshine. But- time was short, and he had one more task to complete. He turned his head to observe his wife, napping at his side.

She was tired, he knew; she had been so worried for him. She looked so different now from that day when they had first met; she had been a lovely girl then, full in the flush of youthful beauty. To this day he thought her beautiful, and the changes that time had wrought in her were precious to him; they were evidence of the life that she had lived at his side. She disliked the changes in her figure, in the body that had given him his beloved children. She fussed over the wrinkles, the lines that she had engraved with the thousands of smiles she had given him. Honestly, though, her gray hair was his favorite; it was not greying evenly and instead it layed in thick ribbons, rivers of silver, and it suited his bold girl.

He smiled, jostled her a bit, woke her. "Kaoru?" His voice was soft. Her beloved eyes opened, blinking away sleep and dreams, focusing on him.

"Kenshin?" Ah, the way she always said his name, it made his chest twinge even after all this time.

"Kaoru- beloved, it's time, I think."

"Oh!" She sat up fully, her small hands patting his chest and cheeks, tears in her eyes. "I'll- I'll go get the kids-"

"No," he caught one calloused hand in his own. "I've already said goodbye to them, Kaoru. It's just us." His only hesitation now was this woman, was knowing that his death would bring her pain.

She sighed and her body relaxed, the panic and fight leaving her, and she slumped slightly. She looked down at their hands, stroked her fingers over his. "You promised-" her voice was trembling with those tears. "You promised, not to ever tell me goodbye again." She met his gaze, and there was acceptance there, in her sorrow.

"Ah, it's not goodbye, beloved... It's a journey without farewells." She smiled through her tears, recognizing his words from so long ago. "A beginning without an end."

"I will be more than a little lonely without you," she objected gently. "But... I'll be fine, you know. I have the kids, and our friends." She paused. "I don't know that to say," she finally whispered. "There aren't words for this."

He wished that he could raise his arm, wanted to stroke her bangs away from her eyes. "Kaoru... Thank you." She sniffed, wiped her cheeks.

"Yes." Ah, she was so brave, his girl. "Yes, that's the right word, isn't it? ...Thank you." And her sweet blue eyes closed, and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his for the last time in a countless succession, and he closed his own eyes, kissed her back with love. She pulled away, just a bit, pressed her forehead to his and shared his breath for a moment.

It was then that he let go; he let go of his body and it was not a slither or a pop or a slink. No, it was an _explosion:_ upwards, fast and dizzy and spinning. It was the rush of a thousand dancing, joyous exploding golden suns, whirling up and outward, around and through, laughing without sound, singing without voice.

Release.

Completion.

On a day like any other.


	30. Rejuvenate

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt: Take It Away

Because I think that Kenshin finds such rejuvenation in the simplicity of his home.

* * *

Kenshin's steps dragged, kicking up more miserable road dust. He'd been gone over two weeks instead of the promised four days, and he rather regretted his entire involvement in the miserable affair. The simple escort of the foreign diplomat was really just a gesture on the part of Uramura, offering his best (a war hero of considerable accomplishment) to the kind foreign man and lining Kenshin's pocket in the process. Unfortunately, the diplomat had taken quite a liking to Kenshin and had requested his company for the duration of the conference.

 

Two weeks of _politics_. Kenshin felt wilted. The Kamiya dojo's gate looming in the twilight had only rarely been such a welcome sight. He opened the gate quietly and stood statue still, looking at his family with wide eyes.

 

It was nearly full dark and summertime, which meant the children should have been in bed, but they were not. No, six year old Kenji was wide awake in his yukata, brandishing a small stick and sprinting across the yard toward two small neighbor girls that Kaoru sometimes watched, both similariy dressed for bed, both similarly wielding "swords."

 

"You won't win, Yokai-san!" _Miyuki-chan,_ he thought.

 

"Yeah!" Her sister, Aki, taunted, waving her own stick.. "You can't get passed us!" Also dressed for bed and sitting on the porch, a giggling Kaoru had a hand pressed to her mouth, their youngest son snoozing in her lap. "We'll protect the princess!" And the two little girls charged, chasing Kenji around the yard, threatening everything from violence to tickling, and Kaoru watched and laughed, and smoothed their son's hair as she cheered the girls' efforts.

 

Standing at the gate, Kenshin watched too, until the children lost interest in the game and began chasing fireflies. Kaoru noticed him there and smiled.

 

"Okaerinasai!" She called.

 

Kenshin smiled in return, closing the gate and stepping towards his family. "Tadaima."


	31. Off

Set very early, before Yahiko joined them.

Because Kaoru's ability to choose happiness in the face of sorrow is a skill set that Kenshin needs. This is a bit of Kenshin's first impressions of her.

* * *

 

Kamiya Kaoru had the soul of a samurai, and she was born twenty years too late for it be to be given wings. Her mother had died when she was young, and her lack of feminine training had drastically decreased her bride-value. Her father was dead, her family legacy was in jeopardy, and her income barely sustained her. By rights, Kaoru should have been a sad girl when she found him on that street.

 

Instead, Kaoru was fierce and angry. She was bold and reckless and lectured him about family honor with fire in her eyes. When her world went wrong, Kamiya Kaoru had gone out to fix it.

 

When the debacle with the Hiruma brothers was over, when it was clear that she'd been betrayed and targeted, she should have been bitter. Kenshin knew that she'd cried that night, alone in her room, and he'd expected to find her spirit diminished by the experience. That morning at breakfast, however, she was smiling and chatting about her plans for the day, and Kenshin watched her closely while pretending that he wasn't.

 

He was confused to find that she was not masking sadness and bitterness and pain; she was truly happy. Although she had a dozen profound reasons not to be happy, she simply was; it radiated from her spirit, shone in her face. It filled the dining room and pressed warmly against the torn, ragged edges of him.

 

It was fascinating.

 

It was a little concerning. It was possible that she was a bit off, he supposed. It bore watching.


	32. Together

Because Kaoru is really very young, and she's married to a very handsome man.

.

**He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began. ~Leo Tolstoy**

* * *

Kenshin knew that it was still night before he even opened his eyes. All of his senses confirmed that it was still night, that he was safe in Kamiya house, in his bed, twined around his wife and thus he allowed himself the luxury of coming awake slowly. It was night; why was he awake? He blinked the top of his wife's dark head into focus. _Ah,_ Kaoru was awake. Why was Kaoru awake? His fuzzy mind turned it over.

 

He pulled back to focus on her face, or tried to, and was stopped by an odd tugging on his scalp. His young wife made an odd squeaking sound and looked up from her position under his chin, her blue eyes luminous in the dark. Careful of whatever was wrong with his hair, he managed to light the bedside lamp with sleep-clumsy fingers.

 

Kaoru's face was pink with embarrassment, her bottom lip was pulled in between her teeth, and her small hands frozen in place. He focused down on her, and felt his mouth turn up at the corners. There in her pale fingers was their hair, plaited together in a braid, bright red and inky black.

 

"Um, Kenshin, I didn't mean... I'm sorry that I woke you up- I- it was-" and her nimble fingers began to untwist their hair. He covered her hand with his own, settling back into the soft comfort of their bed.

 

"No," his voice was gentle. "Leave it." He pulled her up into a slow, sleepy, thorough kiss, tracing the contours of her mouth with his own, a dozen kisses masquerading as one, his hand tracing her jaw and neck, coaxing her to relax back into his body. He withdrew when he felt her soften, and tucked her under his chin again, wrapped her up in his arms and their warm blankets. Her warm breath ghosted against his throat, her form both strong and delightfully, alluringly soft as she lay against him. She settled a bit, twined an arm over his waist, inserted her leg between his own.

 

Kenshin closed his eyes and returned to sleep with a smile.


	33. Classy

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt: High Class

Have you ever seen a picture of a Meiji era prostitute? Contrast how _covered_ those ladies were against a period Western evening gown and you get this bit of silliness. Also, please note that day dresses and evening dresses during that period of English history were very, very different. :)

Setting is ambiguous, but prior to marriage.

* * *

Kenshin smiled, eyes roving over the various dishes on stove, simmering, bubbling and frying satisfactorily. He loved the kitchen, the quiet dance of meal preparation, the grace and control inherent in making a good meal. He loved the pleasure it brought his makeshift family. He loved being able to create something that directly nourished his loved ones, lavishing care upon them in a way as direct as touch. He hummed quietly to himself, setting a tray with the items needed for tea.

Tae was over, and she and Kaoru had been sequestered in a bedroom for the last two hours; while he had been explicitly banned, surely they would appreciate tea. Dinner was nearly complete, it would keep for the minute it would take to the deliver refreshments to the ladies.

"Kaoru-dono, Tae-dono, this one has brought tea." He waited quietly in hall, listening to the shuffling in Kaoru's room.

" _No! Tae, this is ridiculous, I won't!"_

" _Kaoru, you look fine, it's all the rage-_ "

" _I look like- No! Make him go away and help me out of this-_ "

"Oro!" Luckily, his voice had been quiet. He shifted the tray, and blinked. What on earth were they doing? Tae cracked open shoji and gave him a sunny smile, blocking the entrance with her body. She was dressed in one the new body-hugging, high collared Western dresses that the women in the market had recently began wearing.

"Kenshin-san! How nice of you to bring tea." There was a loud crash behind her, and Kenshin was trying very hard to resist the urge to look. "If you would perhaps leave the tray, I will fetch it in just a moment."

"Oro? Um, yes." Kenshin placed the tea tray on the floor. "What- what are you ladies doing today, Tae-dono?" Her smile tightened in annoyance.

"I brought some of the new Western fashions for Kaoru to try. Her mother's kimono look lovely, of course, but rather old-fashioned, and I thought that she might enjoy something more modern."

" _Tae!"_

"She's- she's a bit self-conscious."

"This one is certain you both look lovely, that I am." Kenshin tried a soothing smile in the face of Tae's annoyance and the continued sounds of muted thumps from within the bedroom. Tae was always quite presentable,and although the Western fashions were snug across a woman's body, they weren't really scandalous, just a bit odd. Kenshin had personally seen Kaoru in everything from training clothes to her sleeping clothes and she had never before been body-conscious. He was practically itching with curiosity.

" _Tae! Help me out of this- this THING."_ Tae's smile took a sharp edge.

"That THING is very high-class, Kaoru!" She shoved the shoji open so hard that it impacted the wall and bounced. Kaoru froze, one hand braced against the wall, one hand behind her, presumably attempting to unfasten her … gown.

Kenshin was suddenly very glad that he was no longer holding a tray full of breakables.

The... gown...was very full in the skirt and highly ornamented, like all of the other Western dresses that he'd seen, but her... torso... That was where everything went- weird. Her neck and shoulders and the tops of her breasts were bare, pale flesh bound in blue fabric and lace, with a bizarre bow in the center like some sort of salacious present. Her dark hair had all been piled on top of her head, with several strands floating free against her slim neck, brushing against those white shoulders. The sheer amount of _skin_ that was showing was enough to cause his mind to shut down temporarily.

Tae grabbed Kaoru's arm- her _completely bare arm_ \- and thrust her forward, towards Kenshin. "It's a evening gown! Western ladies wear them-" and Tae was still talking happily, but Kenshin just wanted to back away before he began to hyperventilate. He had never in his life seen such a surreal juxaposition of yards and yards of fabric against such a vast amount of exposed flesh. Kaoru's lovely neck and the occasional flash of collarbone and breast binding had been enough to make his nights uncomfortable; this- this- THING she was wearing was simply too much to process.

Kenshin realized that Tae was awaiting some type of response from him, and he blinked his eyes away from Kaoru's _completely bare shoulders_ to try to answer. His mouth flapped while he backed away toward the opposing wall. He tried to form words past his paralyzed throat. He accidentally put his foot into the tea tray, and with internal thanks to a merciful universe, he gratefully fell with well-practiced rurouni clumsiness, using the ensuing chaos to escape.

"Dinner!" He gasped and scuttled away to the relative safety of the kitchen. He sagged against the wall, began to quietly thump his head against the wood.

Perhaps self-induced head trauma would result in memory loss.


	34. Waiting

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: So Far From Home

'Cause I can't see Kaoru sitting around waiting to be rescued, but you have to admit that an island prision is a pretty good cage.

Setting is obvious.

* * *

It was raining. Kaoru absently traced one of drops down the glass pane, watching the harbor. The house was set so high and the glass was so clear that sometimes she would daydream about flying, sprouting wings and flinging herself out of the window and just flying away. She had no wings, though, and so she stood in that strangely fluffy sleeping robe and kept vigil.

Footsteps sounded outside of her room ( _two men, large, heavy footed)_ and her eyes flicked to the oh-so-convenient clock on the side table ( _3:38pm, they were late, still three hours between in-house patrols. Slobs.)_ She returned her gaze to the water, waiting.

The footsteps came again ( _two men, large, heavy footed. 6:35pm. At least they were on time.)_ In one more hour, night would fall and she wouldn't be able to see the harbor clearly any longer. It had stopped raining. She could go begin dinner now, or wait until full dark. It wasn't much of a choice; she waited.

It was 7:16 when Kaoru decided that it was dark enough that no one would sail through the dangerously jagged cliffs into the harbor. Her feet and legs protested as she moved away from the glass so she took a moment to stretch. There was no reason to rush; there was no one waiting for her in this house.

She exited her room ( _they didn't bother to lock her in; arrogant)_ and made her way to the kitchen, avoiding the goons with their habitual paths and hangouts as deftly as she had done since day three. The kitchen was beautiful, modern in a way that she had never seen before. She crossed to the stove and lit it ( _Kenshin would love a stove like this one)_ and opened the pantry, perusing the stores. There was at least another week of food on display here, even with the way that she had been "cooking." She frowned. ( _They had better not have a storage shed full of rice somewhere.)_ She scooped an enormous portion of grain into the large cooking pot ( _the one with the copper bottom; how much did something like that cost? Kenshin would enjoy a pot like this one)_ and selected vegetables and salted meat.

She knew that they other men ate something different, she'd seen the remnants of their meals, the coarse rice and cheap, wilted vegetables. Enishi seemed indifferent to whether he ate or not, but what he did eat was the superior quality foods in this pantry. With grim pleasure, she began to prepare enough of the quality ingredients to feed six Sanosukes on a hungry day.

She undercooked the rice and overcooked the squash. She sighed to herself and scooped out a reasonable portion, eating by herself in the quiet room. She scooped out a bit more rice and made herself some onigiri for tomorrow's breakfast and lunch, lop-sided and undersalted, and tried not to long for bunny shapes. She allowed the rice to continue cooking as she worked, until it was gummy.

She prepared a tray with the now-cold undercooked vegetables and the cheerfully gummy rice and made herself small. She took a deep breath, and gathered her ki around her, pulling it inside into a small ember, tucking it deep within herself like throwing a blanket over a lantern. She hunched her shoulders, bowed her head. She smiled briefly as she placed cool, oversteeped tea on the tray, and turned left out of the kitchen.

It was a risk, offering meals to Enishi. He was obviously half-mad and although she tried not to draw too much of his attention, he often scraped against her strained control, causing her to mouth off before she could catch her willful tongue. She couldn't let him die, though. Not only did she refuse to desire her enemy's death, but if he was gone then that man with the rat-eyes would be left in charge. She didn't know the man's name but his disgusting little eyes wandered over her body in disturbing ways the few times they had met. Their last meeting had prompted her to take an hour long bath.

Enishi was brooding at the fire. She had tried and tried to draw him out, make herself human in his eyes, convince him that this whole thing was futile. She didn't have the energy for that tonight, although she thought that she might try again tomorrow. Instead, she merely sat the tray of dubious offerings on the table near the fireplace and left as quietly as she'd came.

Back in the kitchen, she took malicious pleasure in disposing of the huge quantity of left over food, sneaking as many intact, uncooked items into the midden heap as she dared. She scrubbed the pots and dishes, drying them carefully and putting them away until tomorrow. The sad not-bunny onigiri went with her.

She returned to her room, propped a chair under the door knob, and performed a few kata at half speed in the small space, trying to empty her mind.

There had not been a ship in almost a week. This was an _island_ , they did not grow food here, much less make matches and cloth and salt. There _would be a ship_ , and if she had to burn every grain of rice in this house to force a re-supply _there would be a ship._

Footsteps sounded in the hall and her eyes flicked to the clock ( _two men, large, heavy footed. 9:32 pm)._ She did not have wings and couldn't fly away, but there would be a ship. Soon.

And Kaoru would be waiting.


	35. Touched

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Good Medicine

My prompt ended up not really resembling my story much. The prompt "good medicine" made me think about touch, human contact, and how badly we, as social creatures, really need that physical affection. Then you take this need and filter it through social/culture constraints like the physically reserved Japanese and I thought, Kenshin wouldn't have hardly been touched in over a decade, and maybe (probably?) only minimally for eight years or so before that, too. And I see Kaoru as being atypical in this regard, not lewd or ridiculous, but just much more physically demonstrative than Kenshin is likely used to.

How badly he must want that.

It's a weird one, just a warning.

* * *

The first several weeks of cohabitation with the shihondai had been a shock to the system. Kaoru was a very physical person. She expressed herself through touch, and he had the lumps to prove it. The reality that this small woman would dare to strike him was mind-boggling; he had been a _hitokiri,_ for heaven's sake.

It was more than that, though, so much more. Kaoru touched him constantly, small touches that bespoke intimacy. The contact was nothing scandalous, everything was proper, but she thought nothing about brushing his fingertips as she passed him his cup, or touching his sleeve to gain his attention if he'd been daydreaming. She stood more closely than was conventional, and although it was still a polite distance, he could smell her perfume as they worked side by side in the yard. The honesty of her was such that he knew that the touching was exactly what it seemed to be: Kaoru liked him and she was expressing herself as she was wont to do. Still, the constant little touches made him vaguely uncomfortable. At first.

It took very little time before the discomfort settled into acceptance. Soon, he became accustomed to her idiosyncrasy as people did when they lived together. Her little touches, the warmth of her calloused fingers and the scent of her jasmine soap, were as much a part of the backdrop of his days as pleasant breeze and warm sunshine. She offered the same physical affection to Yahiko, and Sano. That she didn't blush for them, didn't nibble her sweet lip, was something that Kenshin spent weeks trying not to think about.

And then he left. He walked to Kyoto, located a new sword and found his master, and no one touched him anymore. His only physical contact for an entire eight weeks was violence. He was fully aware that he was in love with Kaoru, and had been prepared to miss her terribly, to grieve for what could not be. He had _not_ been prepared for the restless desire to be touched. The lack of Kaoru's hand, her perfume, her tug at his sleeve made him ache, literally. His fingertips ached, his arms ached, his chest ached with how badly he missed that pervasive contact. He talked and ate and searched and all the while, he felt like half a person, the Walking Incomplete.

Then, outside of all reason, she was simply _there,_ standing in the doorway of Shishou's home looking unsure and timid and un-Kaoru-like, and Kenshin felt an explosion in his chest. He felt shock, and fear for her safety, and anger that she had invalidated his choice, and through all of that emotion the dreadful ache in him intensified tenfold and seemed to pulse with his heartbeat. She was right there, so close, and he wanted to wrap his aching arms around her, pull her against his chest, and bury his nose in her jasmine scented hair. Half of him was angry, yes, but the rest of him cried out in relief. She was there and she would touch him again, and he need not miss it anymore. He curled his needy fingers into fists, and resisted temptation.


	36. Fifty words, 1

These are all precisely 50 words, no more, no less and just a little bit of fun writing exercise. I'll post them up when I have 4 or 5 laying around.

* * *

 

_ Homecoming _

Kenshin froze and savored the sensation of skin on skin, Kaoru's body under him, around him. She smiled, framed his face with her warm hands, and somehow she understood.

"Okaeri nasai, Kenshin."

He turned his face into her neck, whispered into her skin. "Tadaima," and he began to move.

 

_ Gifts _

"You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen." Amber eyes looked back at him, unconcerned.

"It is unsanitary, so it is." His opponent didn't respond.

Somehow the little black cat managed to look innocent like always, even while sitting next to yet another dead bird.

 

_ Choices _

It was cold. It was spring, yes, but yesterday he had woken up with frost stiffening his thin blanket and the idea of sleeping outdoors again was decidedly unappealing.

Kenshin counted his money: just enough for a cheap inn.

He turned left, towards Tokyo. Maybe something good would happen there.

 

_ Solutions _

Whenever Kensin's eyes became sad and turned inward, Kaoru acted. She'd pull him down, her arms and legs wrapped tight around him, so that he could drown in her and the magic of _them_ instead of memories.

"It's alright," she'd whisper in his ear. "I've got you. I'm here."


	37. Game

Prompt: Game Console (s)

It is my understanding that swordsmen of the Edo era were expected to be, by and large, well educated. In a cliched fan-girl move, I have completely over-analyzed Manga!Kenshin's shockingly bad handwriting (calligraphy was important at that time!) and extrapolated a personal head-canon in which Hiko neglected large swaths of Kenshin's education. Kaoru being who she is, I think that she would desire to right a perceived wrong. And Kenshin is an adult, and her love interest,so that could get sticky...

Although it's never shown, I have always assumed that in addition to swordsmanship, Kaoru is seeing to Yahiko's more traditional education, as well.

Set post-Kyoto, pre-Jinchuu.

* * *

Hiko had a lot to answer for, and the next time they met Kaoru was going to give him a sizable dressing-down. She'd always desired to teach whoever had raised Kenshin the finer points of their short-comings with the business end of a boken, but having met Hiko, that wouldn't work out so well for the petite woman. So, a humiliating tongue-lashing would have to do. Although, maybe she could just drop an inkstone into his sake jug... She smiled dreamily into space as she sat on the porch, teacup warm in her hands, her expression unconsciously vicious.

"Oro!" She looked over to Kenshin, who had approached her from behind. He now stood, eyes wide and hands raised defensively, sweating visibly. She made an effort to force her mind away from scenarios of vengeance.

"Yes, Kenshin?" His eyes darted to the house. He seemed to be mapping exits. She attempted to smooth her features further. Based on the how nervous the ruruoni appeared, she was having limited success.

"Um...dinner is ready, so it is."

She smiled. "Thank you!" She rose and proceeded him inside. "It smells great!" She, Kenshin, and Yahiko all settled, the blessing was said, and dinner really was delicious. Kenshin seemed to relax after a few minutes, although he did keep giving her sidelong glances. After the meal was cleared away and the dishes washed, she dismissed Yahiko to his writing homework, and turned her smiling face to Kenshin.

"Would you like to play tonight?" He blushed, his naturally pale skin concealing so very little, and scratched the back of his head.

"If Kaoru-dono does not mind..."

"Of course not! Would you like to play in here or on the porch?" He chose the porch, as he usually did, his preference for the outdoors undiminished in light of the cool autumn air. She carefully removed her grandfather's Go board from its case and settled opposite her redhead. She waited while he placed the pieces for his handicap, then began to stake her chosen territory. They had only begun playing shortly before he left for Kyoto and he was surprisingly good for someone so inexperienced. His natural shrewdness and ability to read an opponent offset his _complete lack of instruction-!_ He flinched and she forcibly settled, directing her mind away from his neglect and on to the game.

She won, as she always had, but he was getting better; the game had lasted two and a half hours.

"That was really good, Kenshin. You really almost had that top area." She packed away the pieces and the ornate board. "I'm off to bed, I think. You?" He smiled gently, and it was really unfair how attractive he looked, sitting propped against the porch pillar, his face half shadowed and his beautiful eyes dark.

"This one will stay up a while longer, so I will." She hummed an acknowledgment.

"Would you like for me to bring you your book? Some tea?" His smile widened into something more genuine.

"You do not have to, Kaoru-dono." She smiled back.

"I want to." And she rose and set the water to boil, fetching Kenshin's book of poetry. She heard Yahiko snoring as she passed his room, and peeked inside to insure that he had finished his homework and properly packed away his writing implements. She'd been initially dismayed by Kenshin's complete ignorance of poetry, and basically anything other than the last five hundred years of Japanese politics. He seemed to really enjoy reading, though, and had been delighted when Kaoru had shown him her small library of heirloom volumes. He read quite slowly, but what he read, he remembered. Basho's imagery was magnificent, and Kaoru had been pleased to be able to offer this little book.

She'd had to be so _careful_ with all of this, not wanting Kenshin to feel that she found him lacking because of his poor education. No, it was _Hiko_ who was at fault. To adopt a child and teach him the sword, and only the sword, and then be critical when that child was vulnerable to exploitation-! Kaoru took a deep breath in the quiet kitchen. _The next time we're in Kyoto_ , she promised herself, _that man is going to regret being a cretin._


	38. Now

Prompt: Soap Bubbles

Kenshin broods too much. Sometimes, a guy just needs to get laid. Repeatedly.

Seriously, though, he's the kinda guy that has trouble shutting up and accepting that good things can happen to him without the word ending.

Setting: newlyweds.

* * *

It was night, quiet and dark and calm. Laying in bed, curled around his sleeping wife, Kenshin was still awake. He'd left the lamp lit, Kaoru had been too tired out to care, so he took advantage of the light to watch over his wife while she slept.

The lamplight gilded her skin, turned all of the tiny hairs golden, and she seemed almost to glow. Her dark hair was loose, a tousled halo. Her lashes smudged smooth cheeks, and her hand was tucked neatly under her face. She was still naked, and he carefully tucked the far edge of the blanket around her back, smoothing the quilt over skin.

How fragile she was, how fragile all of this was, and he wondered if she had any idea. Her parents had been taken young, so perhaps she did know, but he was uncertain. He couldn't, could never, find the words to give voice to his certainty that what they had here, in this room, was as fragile as soap bubbles. An accident, an illness, an act of violence and everything would be gone.

He stroked a gentle hand over her arm, the skin soft and silky over firm muscle. He would take it, this selfish and ephemeral joy, and soak it into his pores. He'd float along in these muted moments of tranquility and intimacy. And if fate saw fit to tear it all down, he will have _had_ this, these moments, these memories, this history.

He pressed his face into her hair, took the scent of it deep into his lungs and listened to the sound of her breathing, warm and soft against his own body. He would watch over her and this place, protect her and their home and the life that they had together. She had willingly given herself into his keeping, trusting him with her body and her heart and all of her possessions, and if necessary he would give up _everything_ to reward that faith. Even now, the sakabatou was within arms reach.

The sword that protects must not fail.

He must not fail. Not again.

She shifted against him, a sleepy murmur and a glide of calloused fingertips across his waist, and he pushed his dark thoughts aside in favor of her sleepy mouth and welcoming hands. For now at least, Kaoru was here, vibrant and sweet, and her collarbone needed kissing.


	39. Game 2

Several people asked me to write a "Kaoru gets revenge" follow up to "Game." Soooo, writing Hiko. Yeah. Let's see how this goes. PLEASE READ "GAME" FIRST.

And, yes, Hiko is gleefully needling her (as I think he does with most people that he likes) during this entire thing, but it's written from Kaoru's POV so that might not come across. (I _might_ write a f/u from Hiko's POV.)

Setting: after marriage, before Kenji.

* * *

Her opening volley was nonverbal. It was in amongst a couple of other items that she and Kenshin had brought from Tokyo. She had deliberately left them unwrapped (and honestly, wrapping them would have made bringing them up the mountain beyond awkward). She settled herself firmly on her cushion, gaze unflinching and hands steady as she politely presented them.

Hiko's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sake flask in her hands. It was lovely, a beautiful red with a flower motif worked into the steel neck.

"Dare I hope your taste in sake has improved, baka deshi?" Kaoru's smile was less a smile and more of a baring of teeth.

" _I_ chose it for you, Hiko-san," she ground out. Hiko took it from her- one handed. _Clod._ She kept smiling. He eyed the other items with the same dismissive approval. Kaoru had saved the book for last. It was a handsome volume, bound in hunter green, a brand new translation of The Social Contract, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

Hiko eyed it and then merely raised an eyebrow. Kaoru completely missed the amused glint in his dark eyes, but Kenshin noted it with equal parts dread and acceptance; it was merely Hiko's way. _Be careful, Shishou,_ he thought with a mental headshake, _you don't know who you're teasing._

"I was fortunate to find a copy, Hiko-san. I was able to attend a public debate about this book, and it-" Hiko waved a hand, cutting her off mid-speech.

"Philosophy," and he said it as though he'd stepped in something foul, "is for the weak minded." If words were tangible things, Kaoru might have choked. As it was, a nasty tick took hold of her left eye.

.

.

.

Kaoru lobbed her second shot over lunch, seated with Kenshin to her right and Hiko to her left, at the small but pretty dining table.

"Hiko-san, have you heard that they've published another volume of poetry by the Emperor? It's apparently all _tanka_ ; they say that he's written thousands of them now."

Hiko and Kenshin both paused in eating their meal. Kenshin blinked at her as though she'd lost her mind, but Hiko merely gave her an inscrutable look over his rice bowl. A rice bowl conveniently positioned to hide the man's almost-smiling mouth.

"Reading poetry is a waste of time." Kaoru felt the twitch returning.

"There is a noble tradition of Japanese poetry that-"

"Waste of time," Hiko interrupted. Kaoru squeezed her fist until she heard her chopsticks squeak.

"Baka deshi. She appears on the verge of breaking my things. Restrain your woman." Kaoru's face went white, and then red, and then Kenshin really did have to restrain her – bodily.

.

.

.

After lunch was eaten, Kenshin and Hiko engaged in what must have passed for small talk between the two men. Really it was Hiko drinking, and occasionally shouting a comment at Kenshin while he chopped wood. Kaoru made tea and fumed. _Insufferable great cretin._ She eyed the sake flask. She fingered the ink stick in her pocket. It was a cheap pine soot one, the kind that dissolved too easily and made inferior, runny ink. She'd bought it on a whim, but... _No,_ she decided, and picked up the tea tray and the warmed sake and returned outside to the men.

She seated herself next to Hiko, and tried not to let to let the sight of Kenshin chopping wood topless distract her from the task at hand. She zoned out for a minute, and then forcibly turned away.

"Hiko-san." Her voice was firm. Nothing had gone correctly today; maybe she should just be direct? She kept her voice quiet in the hope that it wouldn't carry too far. "Why did you not teach Kenshin proper calligraphy?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He lowered his cup. "I tried. The boy was inept." Kaoru's mouth dropped open. She stared. Hiko smirked. And then he rose and walked away, presumably to relieve himself. Kaoru snapped her mouth shut and she jammed the ink stick in the pretty little gourd with relish. _Obnoxious, insulting-!_ Even her thoughts sputtered.

By the time he returned, she had assembled some illusion of serenity. She stared into the distance, her grip on her teacup tight, her shoulders tense, and tried not to think about what she'd just done. Should she tell him? Prevent him from drinking the stuff? He was huge. He was a master of Hiten Mitsurgi Ryu. He was, essentially, her father-in-law.

He was one of the most deliberately unpleasant people she had ever met. Thinking over the day, Kaoru felt the eye twitch return. _Nevermind._

Hiko picked up the pretty red jug and took a deep pull. Kaoru watched, frozen.

There was a half-beat of silence, and then Hiko violently spat out the now dark blue sake, spraying the front of his kimono with the dark, foul liquid. Then he was still, as still as a large hunting bird, and Kaoru felt her breathing accelerate. Kenshin sprinted to the dozen paces to their seat.

"What is it? This one... felt..." he trailed off. As Kenshin took in the tableau with wide eyes, Kaoru cringed a little, gaze darting between her husband and his mountain of a mentor. Even she could feel Hiko gathering himself for an explosion. And then Kenshin began to laugh.

He laughed like she had never seen before, sagging against the wall of the house, hugging his arms around his belly. He was gasping and wheezing like he could barely breathe, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Finally, still hunched over and a hand braced against the knee, he gathered himself enough to speak.

"Shishou, you have something," he wheezed, gesturing at his own chest, "Just there." He wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Hiko stood in a billowing of great white cape and Kaoru turned back to him, having nearly forgotten him as she watched her normally quiet, reserved spouse. Hiko's mouth twitched into what Kaoru could swear was a smile.

"Woman." She turned instantly crimson as Hiko stripped out of his kimono. "I expect that cleaned and returned." And he dropped the garment on Kaoru's face and stalked inside the house. Kaoru tore the kimono off of her head, and looked over at Kenshin, who was still chuckling to himself.

 _Competely worth it,_ she thought.

* * *

 


	40. Desire

Prompt: Child of Mine

Kenshin hides himself from the world, but I think that he hides himself from himself a bit, too.

Setting: Post Kyoto, Pre Jinchuu

* * *

"Aw, man, why do we gotta pick up all this stuff?" Kenshin flicked a glance over to Sano as the younger man lounged while standing upright, his perpetually bandaged fists thrust into his pockets.

"Maa, Sano, the dojo is running low on some items, so it is. It is not too much trouble to do the grocery shopping." Kenshin selected a rather nice looking squash and paid the patient vendor. His voice took on a wry edge. "And it is not as though you are carrying any of it, that it isn't." And he wasn't, the tall man was completely unencumbered and the far smaller Kenshin was nearly buried in produce and an unnecessarily heavy container of soy sauce.

Sano shifted his fish bone to accommodate a grin. "What, and ruin my reputation?" Kenshin smiled a bit and shook his head.

"We should return to Kaoru-dono, that we should; her visit must be nearly over by now." Kaoru had taken the opportunity to visit her childhood friend while the men picked up a "few items," and it was on the way back to the dojo. Kenshin felt himself smiling a little for no real reason, pleased to be going _home_. It felt so wonderfully strange, in his thoughts and his speech, to refer to any place as "home." Despite himself, Kenshin could not quite let go, could not fully embrace the reality of it all. There were still such shadows,darkness on the edges of his thoughts and his life, and a feeling of pregnant silence, as though the universe had drawn in a breath and had yet to exhale.

He did not _want_ to feel that reserve. He wanted to allow himself to relax. He wanted this life, the life that tugged at his consciousness and whispered seductive words of comfort and acceptance. He wanted endless mundane trips to the market and warm autumn days working and living with his foundling family. Deep in his heart, Kenshin knew that he was a needy man.

The two men threaded through the market towards the Wantanabe home. They had seemed like nice people earlier when they had exchanged greetings; Kaoru's friend Aiko-dono had been married for just a couple of years now and her husband worked in the tax office. That Wantanabe Aiko was merely one year older than Kaoru-dono was something that caused an aimless, restless feeling in Kenshin's chest.

The ladies had chosen to take tea on the porch of the modest but neat little house, and Kenshin could see Kaoru-dono sitting outside, her back to the approaching men and her legs curled to her left. She was looking at something in her lap, and Aiko-dono was smiling broadly, chatting and gesturing. The women made a nice picture, sitting there in the sunshine, healthy and happy. Kenshin noted Sano's appreciative smile; Sano had no interest in Kaoru-dono, and certainly none in her married friend, but a man would have to be made of stone not to find such a scene pleasing.

"Your family is here, Kaoru-chan. I'll take him." The woman smiled and opened her arms, and Kenshin was at last close enough to see what had captured Kaoru-dono's attention.

There was a baby on her lap. It was a very small baby, probably only a few weeks old, and only its fuzzy black head and waving hands were visible above the soft, clean blanket. She had it not on her lap, he could see that now, but cradled in her arms, cuddled close to her body. Her posture was soft and protective, her face dreamy and adoring. At that moment, she was the picture of everything maternal.

He had never before even _imagined_ Kaoru-dono with a baby.

For a tiny instant, a flicker of time, he was seized the the most intense craving, a coveting so sharp that it stole his breath away. He was left reeling while his world tilted crazily on its side.

Sano, bless him, stepped forward and managed pleasantries, collecting Kaoru-dono and allowing Kenshin a moment to remember how to breathe. Kenshin turned towards the dojo on wooden feet, his head down and bangs forward.

 _Kami-sama._ Deep in that needy heart, he **wanted.**


	41. Introduction

My own head-canon is in my story A Beautiful Risk and portrays Kenji's entrance to the world as ...well, _risky._ Kenshin would have trouble with the concept of a second pregnancy after such an event, and this little story came into being.

* * *

Kenshin couldn't sleep. He stretched, carefully, and groaned internally, counting the chimes of the little clock from the main hall. _Three a.m._ Insomnia happened sometimes, when he was worried, and he had been worried everyday for the last four months. He scrubbed a calloused over over tired eyes.

The lack of sleep was finally beginning to take its toll. Dust was piling up in the corners, the _udo_ seedlings needed to be transplanted, and his joints were as stiff as a grandfathers'. Kaoru would notice soon, if she hadn't already, and then he could add guilt for her worry to his inner turmoil.

His wife hummed and resettled, seeking his warmth even while she slept and he smiled over at her as she unconsciously snuggled into his side, curling into the hollow of his shoulder as he lifted his arm to pull her close. He breathed deep the floral scent of her hair, and tried to relax. She was five months pregnant now, and her firmly distended belly pressed against his hip.

He stroked her arm and breathed in her scent and stared at the ceiling, and worried. He'd been so ignorant with the first pregnancy, aware of the risks but comfortable in the idea that Kaoru was strong and young and healthy, convinced that she would be fine. The idea that something so commonplace as bearing a child, something so _joyous_ , could steal away his wife … it had only really peripherally registered. When he had been confronted with the reality of a dangerous pregnancy and birth, it had been horrifying. It had been haunting.

This second pregnancy was unplanned and unexpected. They had taken the prudent precautions; Kaoru had taken her herbal tea, once Kenji had started to wean, and Kenshin had always, _always_ , withdrawn during their loving. It hadn't helped, obviously, for here was another baby on the way. Kaoru was only twenty-four years old. He pressed his cheek to Kaoru's head and tried to take comfort in her. He counted his breaths and wished that he could sleep.

Kaoru was happy to be pregnant again and he knew it. She had been gentle when she'd told him, and concerned for him, but there was no disguising her joy. She was back to sewing little clothes and humming while she did so. She stroked reverent hands over her swelling belly at all hours. She was convinced that this baby would be another boy, and had begun suggesting names. She did not share his roiling dread that she might _die_ this time. Kenshin hated that he was so afraid. He wanted to share her happiness, join her in her joyful expectation. Instead, he was frozen, unable to help, unable to protect her, unable to _sleep_ , dammit. He sighed.

A tiny flick, an itty bitty tick, against Kenshin's hip caused him dart his eyes downward. He froze, and waited. _There_ , it had come again, the tiniest of little... kicks. Kenshin ghosted a hand down Kaoru's side, reaching out and pressing at the juncture of his hip and her belly. He waited, anxiety and reluctant excitement twisting in his gut.

 _Again._ It came again, that little flutter, and again and again, the life inside of Kaoru making itself known to its father. Kenshin shifted carefully from under his wife and scooted down until he was eye level with her belly. He pressed both hands against that mound, and played hide and seek with that tiny life, chasing those little kicks across his wife's belly.

"I'm sorry, little one, that I took so long to say hello," he whispered finally, tears stinging at his eyes. "I'm sorry." He pressed a soft kiss to Kaoru's belly, stroked his fingers against that fluttering little life, and _at last_ the fear dissipated like a shadow in sunlight, and he felt himself to fall in love yet again.


	42. Honesty

_Himura_ means "red village" I guess, and was almost certainly an affectation, as the peasant classes didn't have last names before Meiji. Some people think Hiko gave it to him, but I personally imagine it was Katsura, pretending Kenshin was samurai to avoid offending others by keeping Kenshin in a place of honor as his elite. I do NOT see Kenshin as attached to the name, and in fact, have him discard it in favor of _Kamiya_ in every story I write, which isn't canon but I very blithely don't care.

Note: My sources state that hemp was a historically important crop and they apparently did everything with it but smoke it.

Setting: Very early, in the first couple of days that Kenshin stayed in the dojo.

* * *

Kenshin sat against the pillar on the porch, knees bent and feet flat, the sakabatou resting against this shoulder. The sunset here in this place was lovely tonight, the sky painting in pinks and purples and even the shadows cast by the fence seemed friendly. The entire place seemed... gentle. Kenshin felt himself relax a little more, an easing of tension in his shoulders and back against the post.

Soft, rapid footsteps were coming his way, the gait restricted, and sound of kimono swishing against ankles, and there was the pretty little shihondai, emerging from the house with tea tray in hand. She smiled at him, her face honest and sweet. She settled herself near him, setting the tray between them.

"I've brought tea," she said, and then flushed, seemingly embarrassed for stating the obvious. It was cute, and Kenshin gave her a gentle smile, one meant to help her relax, too. She poured two cups, sleeve held carefully out the way, and her wrists were as pretty as the rest of her. She set the teapot aside and carefully handed him the steaming cup. He accepted politely, holding the warm cup and completing the familiar, comforting rituals with a feeling of satisfaction.

Kaoru sat _seiza_ even on the hard planks of the porch, her back and shoulders fiercely straight, a bit too tight for elegant beauty; her posture screamed of her many hours spent in a dojo. Honest, she was, down to her core and Kenshin relaxed a bit more.

"It's very pretty tonight, isn't it, Himura-san?" Her voice was quiet, as though afraid to break the peace. Kenshin looked up from his cup, looking at her as she watched the sky.

"Aa, it is." He was silent for a moment. "Kaoru-dono... This one would appreciate it if you would address me as "Kenshin," that I would." She looked over at him, quickly, surprised, and then turned back to the sunset.

"...You don't like 'Himura' much, do you." It really wasn't a question and it was his turn to be surprised. She was insightful for her age. He gently set his cup aside.

" _Himura_ was part of a lie, so it was, made up many years ago to avoid offending others." And no lie should ever pass this girl's lips. She looked over again, and held his gaze for a moment, blue eyes surprisingly shrewd. She looked away, down to her cup.

"Were your people farmers or merchants?" She asked, taking a small sip. Kenshin smiled, a small but sincere one this time at her gentle acceptance.

"Farmers," he replied. She hummed a little sound of acknowledgment, and Kenshin thought the conversation was over.

"What did they grow?" He blinked in surprise and answered without thinking.

"Rice, hemp, and red dye mostly." She smiled over at him, enjoying the little joke. He found himself telling her more without even knowing why. "The women in the village all wove their own cloth. I grew up thinking that fabric only came in red and brown."

Kaoru smiled. "Did you help them weave when you were little? I used to help my mother..."

Kenshin felt his own smile growing. "Aa, this one did." He recalled a fuzzy memory of sitting in a bright little room, watching his mother's elegant hands as the shuttle flew back and forth.

"Did they tease you that the dye had been splashed on your hair?" Kaoru's pretty blue eyes were twinkling a little.

"Of course." And they smiled at each other, sitting there in the darkening twilight, and Kenshin was shockingly content.

Kaoru broke eye contact first, looking aside and reaching for his cup. "Would you like a refill, Kenshin?"


	43. Acceptance

Prompt: A Tale that Changed Everything: flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

The last bit of this story has dialogue pulled from the Manga and it's underlined so that you know it's not mine and I can't take credit for it.

The last bit of this, the scene from the Manga, is my favorite Kaoru moment **ever** and encapsulates why I love her character. (And yeah, I really think that Kenshin after Kyoto was playing around already with the idea that he could stay, could _marry_ Kaoru, and was struggling with reconciling that to his past, to not having an answer, based on his conversations with Sano.)

Setting: morning after Kenshin's story about his past, one day after Jinchuu was declared.

* * *

Kenshin had known that he needed to tell them, tell _her_ , back when it had been his choice, before life took the decision from him. But how? How did one broach such a topic?

_Good morning, Kaoru-dono. The soup is nearly ready, and this one killed my own wife in 1864._

It was too late now. His past had brought them terrible danger and they hadn't even known why. So he'd sat and told his story, in frank and excruciating detail, like spilling poison from an overflowing cup. He'd kept his shoulders straight but had looked at his lap and tried not to cringe when he felt the shock and hurt in his family, in Kaoru. He'd told them everything, and now they knew just how damaged he really was, how much horror he'd wrought with his own hands. The most sensible action would be for Kaoru to ask him to leave, to take his damaged, dangerous and stained self elsewhere.

Today, the morning after, he methodically folded away his futon and dressed. He sat and brushed his hair much more slowly and carefully than necessary. He'd not slept, and his stomach was a slowly rolling mass of dread. Today, he would look them in the eyes and see the changes the truth had worked in them, in their perceptions of him. It had been so nice, to pretend with them that he would be able to find peace here, that he might be able to keep this, keep _Kaoru_ , and the loss of something that was never really his shouldn't feel like this. He knew that they would now look at him with disgust or fear, that Kaoru wouldn't look at him with those loving, sparkling eyes and it left him almost breathless with hurt.

He rose mechanically and pushed the sakabatou through his hakama ties. He took a last look around his room. The familiar smells of home were all there, age and polish and cleanliness. His eyes wandered around his room, and he felt a distant surprise that he had managed to accumulate so many _things_. There were several books on the low table. They sat next to a couple of cheap little items that he had won at festival games, the one that they had all attended several months ago, and he had kept them as a memento. There was a nicely painted scroll on the wall that Kaoru had given him from storage one day for no reason at all. There was the quite nice, now well-used sword cleaning kit, next to the sword stand that he never used; his family had all pooled their money and given it to him for Obon. He had three complete sets of clothes, more than he'd ever owned. And there, in its place of honor, was his second most-prized possession; a photograph. They were expensive for people such as they, but Kaoru had insisted, had been saving, and had purchased a tin type of the entire group of them, posed in their nicest clothing at a street fair. It sat in pride of place in the main room, and he had enjoyed it there; he'd been shocked into stuttering when Kaoru had presented him with his own copy, and he had looked at it often with deep pleasure.

He took a deep breath to settle the nausea, and opened the door to sunshine. The world should at least have the decency to rain for him, when his pretend little world had just ended. But such mercy was not forthcoming and the day was lovely, bright and breezy and scented with the flowers in the yard. He stepped onto the porch. He could sense the others in the dojo and Kaoru was humming in the kitchen. She'd always had a rather lovely voice, not fashionable, but strong and sweet and he loved it. He turned towards the well, and dumped a bucket on over his head.

 _I cannot avoid this ,_ he thought. _Nine more days..._

Damn, but Kaoru's footsteps were approaching and Kenshin felt rather like he was facing an executioner. He reluctantly turned her way. She took in his appearance, haggard and wet with well-water, a bucket at his feet. She hadn't slept well either as the smudges under her eyes uncharacteristic.

And then she smiled. She smiled a big, open, lovely smile, just for him. "Good morning, Kenshin!" She chirped, her voice as sweetly happy as it ever was. Kenshin was more shocked than if she'd slapped his face. "Although, it's actually lunchtime. There are a lot of us, so I though we'd eat in the dojo."

Off kilter, Kenshin's voice was hoarse and quiet. "This one... since yesterday, I haven't been very hungry, so-"

"Uh, Ken-san," and Megumi and Tsubame were holding lunch things, and they both were calm and _normal, "_ If you don't eat at least a little, you'll be exhausted later." The girls turned towards the dojo and Kaoru's next words were tossed casually over her shoulder.

"I'll go get a fresh towel; wipe your face and come eat."

And Kenshin stood completely still, breathing deep and nearly light-headed with relief.


	44. Story Teaser

I would like to write another chaptered story, now that I'm feeling a bit better, and have been kicking around ideas. There's currently two main contenders and I'm leaning towards this one. So, this is the potential first bit of a new chapter story, so if you're interested in where this might go, please let me know! Otherwise, I'll go back to the drawing board and try for something better. OR, if you've got an idea, send it to me.

UPDATE: I've gotten a good response to this on FF.net, so I have posted the story here under the title: Stolen Heritage

The idea was born because Kenshin's looks are so distinctive,and his past very vague.

Setting: Kenji's a toddler, so... married 3 or 5 years.

* * *

Prologue

Kenshin itched.

It was centered right between his shoulder blades, and that usually meant he was being watched. He smiled cheerfully at his wife as she handed him yet another package, and he managed to balance the thing on top of the stack he already had. He shifted just a bit away from her, but further in front of the sticky, red-haired toddler, effectively hiding the little boy between the leg of his hakama and the vendor's cart.

He quickly and unobtrusively scanned the vicinity and discovered the same thing he'd found for the last hour: nothing. There was nothing; no one had any more malevolent intentions than the dishonest greengrocer two stalls down and the distressingly tatty-looking little pickpocket working the edge of the crowd of shoppers. It was more than likely just someone unduly interested in his sword or his hair, but still... he itched.

"Kaoru-dono, this is surely enough, so it is. This one will not be able to carry much more." Kaoru's sweet blue eyes glanced up and he met her gaze with a mild, passive, open stare: _this one is hiding nothing, this one has no deeper thoughts than puddles..._

Kaoru's eyes narrowed with frustrating shrewdness- was it really so much to ask that she fall for the Ruruoni act occasionally?- and Kenshin was forced to desperate measures. He minutely shifted his load of packages, allowing a couple to topple, _away_ from his son, and he would have cheerfully allowed them to hit the ground if it meant convincing his wife to get a move on. Kaoru caught both falling things with well-honed reflexes (Kenshin thought that one was radishes and the other must have been her new ribbon) and her pretty face was a study in irritation, but her eyes were still suspicious.

"Mama?" Kenji's smudged face poked out from Kenshin's shadow. "Mama, Kenji tired. Go home?"

Kaoru's beloved face softened for their son, and knowing that she was about to concede, Kenshin didn't quite suppress his small sigh of relief. Her eyes were very sharp now, and the look she gave Kenshin promised something along the lines of _'later: explanations or pain_ ' but she was all smiles for their little boy.

"Of course, Kenji-chan, Mama was just finished," and she quietly paid for the thread for which she'd been bargaining. Kenshin's face was carefully clueless, and he turned his little family towards the safety of home, carefully positioning both wife and son as safely as possible, which was all pretty pointless when he couldn't figure out what he was protecting them from.

They walked in silence for several minutes, weaving through the usual mid-morning crowd, down familiar streets and past familiar vendors. Slightly ahead and to his left, Kaoru was politely acknowledging those people that they knew as they passed by. Kenshin absentmindedly did the same, hoping that he wasn't giving offense as he continued questing for that unknown presence. Finally, the crowd thinned and the last turning towards the dojo inched closer. He twitched his shoulders as the itch intensified.

"Stop!" And Kenshin was turning towards the voice, and dumping the packages into Kaoru's flustered arms, and pushing his little boy to the side of the road all at the same time, as though someone had let the tension from a giant spring. He knew his eyes were sharp blue and his hand on the sakabatou's hilt appeared far from harmless, but no one of good intentions would have followed them _all morning_ and _who_ \- ?!

…It was an old woman. No, it was a _tiny_ old woman. It was a tiny old woman that looked quite alarmed by his response and had a completely benign energy. Kenshin relaxed a fraction, still alert for another threat, still high-strung and defensive.

The old woman's mouth was opening and closing, clearly surprised out of whatever she had been about to say.

"Obaa-san?" Kaoru's voice was calm, and she stepped forward slightly. Kenshin took an involuntary half-step forward and in her direction, re-positioning himself between his wife and- the tiny, startled old woman. Kaoru flicked a look at him and he knew that she was debating between soothing him and braining him, but she thankfully choose to address the stranger instead.

"Obaa-san, can we help you?" The little old woman looked to Kaoru. Kenshin had to repress the urge to block her line of sight.

"Err.. yes, I think so." The woman was responding to Kaoru's attempt to mollify her. She looked back to Kenshin, who was still fierce and silent and just beginning to feel foolish. She squared her shoulders. "Yes. Yes, you can."

"What do you want?" Kenshin's voice was harsher than he'd intended.

"It's just... I just couldn't let you get away." Kaoru sucked in a sharp breath and pressed Kenji further behind her. Kenshin was still, fairly thrumming as he waited for what would happen next.

The woman took a small step forward. "I'd- it's just- your hair..." She pressed a fist against her chest, and her next words were a whisper.

"I'd know you anywhere, Shinta."

* * *

Alright, so I think there's sufficient interest. I'll contact my sublimely superlative beta to see if she's free, and start the research I'll need.

Ka Ru Aras: I'm _flattered_! Thank you so much :)

TricksterBoo: I hope I can do it justice, and keep me grounded with good criticism, okay? ;)

shaid: I'll definitely keep you updated, thanks for the review!

Melay: I like to think he's part kitsune, but I don't write AU or supernatural at this time, so we'll just have to go with foreign blood. :)

kokoronagomu: Thank you, very much. And I totally eat my favorite first; I'm particularly fond of cheesecake.

Aune Lyra and Ryumie: I know! The lack of canon exploration and enrichment is disappointing for the fandom. I hope I can help remedy that.

kaoruca: Aw, thanks for the review, I always appreciate your input.


	45. Imagination

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts Prompt: Cooking (s)

Because Kenshin _is_ a man, and very observant. And celibate. And sometimes that has got to be rough.

Setting: Utterly ambiguous. When do _you_ think it is?

* * *

 _I must be unwell._ Kenshin sat at dinner and watched, without being too obvious, he desperately hoped, as Kaoru chewed a slice of meat with transparent pleasure. _I have clearly lost my mind._ Sano and Yahiko were arguing cheerfully, and Kaoru watched with affection written large in her bright blue eyes, contributing occasionally, but mostly just eating. And Kenshin... Kenshin both loved and hated watching her eat. It wasn't normal.

She was just... such a very _physical_ person, and she ate with a type of sensual indulgence that made him feel tight and hot and terribly adolescent. She was strangely elegant when she wasn't thinking about it, her mother's abbreviated training combining with the natural grace of a martial artist to make her movements confident and correct. Really, her manners were lovely, when she wasn't trying to brain Yahiko with a ladle.

She had this habit of resting the tips of her chopsticks against her lower lip as she chewed sometimes, pressing a little indentation into that plump pink flesh. Watching her do it now was a Very Bad Thing for Kenshin's peace of mind. She ate a bite of vegetables, the ones that Kenshin had sliced and seasoned and sauced knowing that she would be eating them later, and a tiny drop of that brown sauce trembled on that lip for a moment before her little pink tongue swiped out and cleaned her mouth. Kenshin shifted minutely and forcibly focused his attention elsewhere.

He smiled his clueless rurouni smile, internally cursing. He was many things, but he was neither dispassionate nor unimaginative. He knew, down to his marrow, that Kaoru would someday show the same enthusiastic enjoyment with the man that was her husband.

_Damn._

_._

_._

_._


	46. Morning

Updates here will slow down while I'm typing away on my other story, but I wanted to post a teeny tiny something so that you all know I haven't died. :) Please check out the new story and thanks for reading!

Setting: The morning after the wedding.

* * *

Kenshin woke slowly, knowing that he was home and things were _right_ , and that he was warm and comfortable in bed. He stretched with relaxed luxury, like a sun warmed cat, and his fingers brushed not-his-own-hair. He blinked awake, turning his head to face Kaoru's sleeping form, and felt himself grin like a fool. _Kamiya Kaoru is my wife..._ He turned the words over his in his mind, and felt … satisfied. Satisfied deep and low in his belly, a primitive and possessive part of him rejoicing. His mouth twisted wryly. He should not admit that aloud if he wished to avoid a concussion.

He turned up onto an elbow and watched _his wife_ sleep. He'd seen her sleeping before, once or twice, but this was different. This was Kaoru sleeping in his bed, _their_ bed, her hair spread around her in an inky mess, a mess he'd made with needy hands. In the dim, pre-dawn light he could see the faint red marks on her collarbone that he'd made, and he suddenly needed to touch her, to prove that she was real. Reverent fingers traced her shoulder, reveled in her soft, scented skin. He scooted forward and coaxed her sleeping form into his arms, laying front to back, resting with _his wife._

He lay there blissfully unconcerned with how late it was becoming, the room brightening with the morning, just breathing in the perfume of Kaoru's hair and the comforting scents of home. Unable to help himself, he stroked a gentle hand across the curve of her small waist, the swell of generous hips.

She stirred, waking as gradually as he had, and he leaned up to drop tiny kisses across her shoulder, nuzzling affectionately against her neck. Teasingly, he blew against the skin there and against her ear, smiling when she batted at him irritably, still mostly asleep. He pulled her more tightly against his chest and nuzzled into her neck again, unaware that his bangs tickled her more than his earlier teasing. She laughed, and swatted him lightly on the head this time.

"Kenshin, I'm sleeping." He huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh of his own.

"If you're talking, Kaoru, you're not sleeping."

.

She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. _What do we do now? Should I- should I make breakfast?_ Kenshin had always done so, but... but she was a wife. _Does he expect that now?_

Kenshin sighed against her neck, and briefly squeezed her against him in a one armed hug. "I should get up and fetch us breakfast; the reception leftovers should suffice, so they should." He rolled away, reaching for his sleeping robe. Kaoru let out a the breath she'd been holding; that was normal and comfortable at least. "You can stay in bed if you like, Kaoru. I'll be back shortly, that I will."

He left the room, and Kaoru lay quiet for just a moment before flipping the covers over her head and indulging in a strange moment of mixed elation and panic. _I am Kenshin's wife._ What, exactly, was a woman like _her_ supposed to do with a husband? She'd never really thought past how badly she'd wanted him for herself, for her own. Now she had him and and didn't know what to _do_ with him. They'd lived together for a long time, he knew she couldn't cook, that she hated flower arranging, that she had no interest in laundry or housework, and he'd married her anyway. They'd never, either of them, conformed to typical gender roles, and she didn't think he'd want her to change. So what exactly was she supposed to do now?

She took a deep breath and sat up abruptly. _Don't be so stupid! If Kenshin wanted a normal wife, he could've just gotten himself one. He wanted_ me _instead, and I'm not going to accomplish anything lying there like a idiot._ She nodded once to herself, firmly, and rolled out bed.

She was brushing out her incredibly tangled hair when her husband let himself back into their bedroom, balancing a tray with a little bit of everything, from the looks of it. She flushed as her stomach growled but Kenshin just smiled his normal, gentle smile. He sat cross legged at the edge of their bed and handed her her rice. She ate quietly, darting little looks at him from the corner of her eye.

.

His new wife was looking at him like he might grow another head at any moment. He offered her another gentle smile, trying to coax her into the relaxation that he felt thrumming through his very bones.

"Would you like to sleep more, Kaoru? Or do you want to dress?"

"I- um- can we really just lay around all day?"

"Until Shishou and the others come to say goodbye tonight, at least. I wouldn't want them to catch us in bed."

Kaoru blinked. "No. No, that would be bad."

Kenshin nodded agreeably. "We'd never hear the end of it." Kaoru briefly imagined _that_ scenario, and began to giggle. Kenshin's smile grew as he watched _his wife_ laughing, more and more amused. Then he, too, began to laugh, for no other reason than that it was a wonderful day.


End file.
